Cyber-Violet Volition
by Virtual Delirium
Summary: "Let the Trickster inhabit the darker side of life, while we use that force, through his stories, to bring us to the good side of life. Let us have balance by leaving evil in the realm of the gods and keeping good in the realm of humanity." [Tags: Revenge, smut, slow burn, some disturbing scenes, Royal content]
1. A Second Chance

_._

 _ **This story is a work of fanfiction.**  
 **All intellectual property of 'Persona 5' belongs to Atlus. The OC, 'Shiori Oshiro' belongs to me.**  
_

* * *

" _Ghosts and magic. Miracles and love. And love. And love."_

-Warsan Shire-

* * *

" _Great artists and thieves are similar. They both know how to steal your soul_ ," said Igor.

"A thief to steal hearts for some unknown end-game you have?" asked Ren.

"There is an end-game. Nothing of malice. Not against you anyway," said Igor.

Again, that earthy laugh which made Ren uncomfortable.

"That's not enough, Igor. I need you to give me something, if we're going to be in for a long road. I need to know this isn't going to end in some cliché betrayal," said Ren.

Those creepy crackly eyes studied Ren.

"You see that guillotine there?" said Igor.

"Kind of hard not to notice that piece of medieval here," Ren said, terse.

"That was created by you, not me. The same is true for the rest of this place," said Igor.

 _You've already told me this_ , said Ren.

"Human psychology is a fascinating thing, wouldn't you agree, Justine?" Igor asked the tiny twin.

Justine bobbed her head.

"Do you know inmate; what is the missing link betwixt Man becoming God? What's the final mountain, science would ever conquer before it knows everything?" asked Justine.

". . ."

"It's the human consciousness. A mystery that runs deeper than the quantum quarks and other building blocks of the universe," Caroline answered for him.

"One of the facets of consciousness's mysteries, is how humans have different personalities hidden in their subconscious. Of course, I don't mean a multiple personality disorder. But a kind of hidden. . ." Igor's eyes flicked to Arsene, ". . .masks. Personas. Almost a kind of divinity. These personalities can be a different gender or age from you. Take a look at human history. The looms that weave myths and legends. They say God created Man in his image. You know what I say? I say Man created gods and monsters in his image. Take your pick. Zeus, Jörmungandr, doppelgängers. . .djinns. . .even the Devil," growled Igor.

The sky became darker, reacting with Ren's emotions.

"All were first based on the human image. This guillotine is based on your image. The divine inside of you believes you're leading your own self to an execution. It's not me you should be wary of betrayal, Ren Amamiya. It's yourself. You're your own Cain. Your heart is the tragic epic of _Der Ring des Nibelungen_. Even if I were out to maliciously exploit you, what other avenue would you seek wisdom from, to prevent this ruin?"

* * *

 _Forward skip in time._

In the dimly lit interrogation room, sat two occupants.

Sae Niijima was in the inquisitor's chair. She appraised the person sitting at the opposite side of the table with intense scrutiny. The Phantom Thieves had been a force of nature which disrupted society, popular culture, law & order in Japan – no, not just in Japan, the world had felt their effects too.

To think that one of these individuals had finally been caught. Which one of them was it? The leader? Or one of the rest? How this all went down, was ironic itself. The Phantom Thieves' greatest enemy had become themselves.

"I'll get straight to the point," said Sae.

The phantom thief said nothing. Bound in a stray jacket, the convict was leaning back, face downcast in a shadow. The SIU was taking no chances with an individual whose unknown methods could change people's hearts. Drugs had been injected to dull the thief's mind too. Sae continued.

"As of now, the full force of the Public Prosecutor's Office is pressing you with charges for obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons…and multiple counts of manslaughter. Do you know what that means?" asked Sae.

Again, the thief said nothing.

"You could be facing the death penalty if prosecution gets their way. But – if you wish to avoid that, I can help you if you cooperate in answering my questions. Your sentence can be lightened to a jail term," said Sae.

The thief laughed. Sae could feel emotions of bitterness and defeat, reverberate off the walls.

"You find this amusing?" asked Sae.

"A death penalty? You're already speaking to a dead person. I was killed in 'the other side'. . .it's only a matter of time before I die here," said the thief.

Although it was hoarse from the torture the thief went through earlier, there was something uncomfortably familiar about the phantom thief's voice. Did she know this individual? The poorly lit room had their prisoner's features veiled by a shadow.

"You mean this 'world' I've read about in the reports. It's hard to believe such a thing exists, from reports alone," said Sae.

". . ."

"When and where did you find out about that world?"

". . ."

"How is it even possible to steal another person's heart?"

The thief remained silent. Sae suppressed a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. At least give me the answer, I want the most," said Sae.

She paused.

"Why. . .did you murder two of your fellow Phantom Thieves?"

* * *

 _April 9th 20XX_.

It was always the barking. That was how Ren Amamiya knew that nightmare was starting all over again. That guttural animalistic rasp that had played over and. . .over again. So – many times, that the sound no longer sounded natural to his ears; like a cassette tape that had been winded too many times.

Ren found himself standing on a long narrow road in the dark night. The corner edges of his vision hazed, a percolation of smoky decay. Maybe the nightmare itself was sick of repeating. Getting a little more brittle, more dark each time he relived this shitty night. If memories could be rotting corpses, this was one of them.

"Just get in the car!"

Right on cue. That bastard's voice.

Ren took a step forward. In that one motion, the street blurred. He found himself standing before the dramatic scene of this tiresome diorama. The same black car. The tall shaven head man, with his powerfully built back turned to Ren. Reaching out to a young pretty woman, her lipstick streaked across her chin like a B-movie horror slash effect.

"Stop it!" she cried out.

Ren tried to will his legs to move on. Walk away. Just leave it. This was none of your business.

But that did not happen. That was not the choice he made that night. Ren was here for the whole show.

A snatch. Tugging at white blouse. Buttons snapped, falling to the pavement – bouncing and rolling. Their clack – clack – clack impact resounding as they rolled into the street gutter. The politician groped at her exposed bra, predatorially wanton as this woman tried to push him off her.

"Please! Let me go!"

"Don't give me that shiiiit!"

The woman made eye-contact with Ren, those eyes teary; a ship in this storm of sexual harassment and abuse. Wishing for a lighthouse. That night, she mistook Ren for her lighthouse, believing a teenage boy could somehow save her from this powerful politician.

"Please, help me!" she cried out to Ren.

The groping stopped. The man straightened up, his back still turned to Ren.

Ren had been through this part many times. Each time, the assaulter's face looked a little different to Ren, in the yellow illumination from the store-front light. Some nights, his face would still be intact, all flesh and skin still there. This time. . .

The man slowly turned around to Ren, first revealing that row of teeth. Then the lathering strips of decaying flesh. Then the empty sockets, wide and round. A grinning skull appraised Ren, smelling of alcohol and rot.

"What are you looking at? Get lost, kid. This ain't a show," growled the skull-man. Ren would come to know his name following his arrest.

Listen to him, Ren thought.

Go home. Where mum and dad are waiting. You have a life here, a tapestry of friends, integrity, a future and a. . .girlfriend. Do not tear it apart for some 10-second chivalry. Walk away.

Ren did not walk away. Instead his mouth opened, just as he spoke that night:

"I cannot ignore this."

Further behind them, two policemen stepped around the corner. Into the streetway. Ren's heart thudded. There was still time to leave. Go. Just go.

"What are you, deaf? I said sod off, kid!" said the skull-man.

LEAVE!

Ren raised his eyebrow.

"Didn't you hear meee? Did your mum birth you arseways? Do I need to teach you some mannersss?" the drunken-slurred word came out of the skull in an airy hiss.

WALK. AWAY.

Ren did not walk away. Of course, his cocky ass did not. The coolly snippy retort Ren gave Shido at that moment:

"Go. . .fuck yourself."

A fist swung at Ren. And the rest was history.

X

Ambient music greeted Ren when he woke, a genteel start of nudging his head up, eyes opening. Ren blearily blinked when orange sunlight filtered into the train's windows; bright and dazing. The strobing sunlight went away, revealing a city skyline in the distance. Tokyo. Compliments of some movie magic soundtrack that was playing from his earphones, like this whole thing was a cliché music video.

Ren tugged off his earpieces and wrapped them up with his BlackBerry. He rubbed his eyes. How long was he asleep?

The train's P.A speakers hummed. Announcement cue.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for riding with us today. We will be arriving at Shibuya shortly. . ."

While rubbing his face, Ren detected mini-trembles in his hands. That night still bothered him. The turning point of his life that got him arrested, indicted with a criminal record and put on probation. Before the ink was even dry when his father signed Ren's bail, word had gotten out to town.

What started as an initiative to help someone, turned into social suicide. His school wanted to expel him, Ren's girlfriend dumped him, and most of his friends stopped talking to him. The worst part was the fallout with his parents. Being the son of affluent corporate sharks had its perks and expectations. When they were not lived up to, things got. . .unpleasant.

To soften Ren's downfall, his parents decided Ren would be sent away for a year. Ren was supposed to spend a year with a man named Sojiro Sakura, who would act as his guardian and ensured Ren follow protocol during his probation. Perhaps staying away from Kyoto for now was for the best.

"What? Are you for real? A mental shutdown?"

Ren's eyes flicked left. Two schoolgirls. Their uniforms did not look anything like the ones in the school pamphlet he was given.

"It's true."

"That's gotta be a joke. You really love all that occult stuff, don't you?"

Both the girls laughed.

Before Ren changed trains for his destination, he made a stop to Shibuya's local burger joint, _Big Bang Burger_. He skipped breakfast and lunch that day, not feeling the appetite to eat after the cold goodbyes from his parents.

Ren sipped coke as he checked his bank balance on a phone app. Well - at least he won't need to worry about money. His father might be angry at him, but his pride (and love? Ren hoped) saw to it that money was taken care of for Ren.

When he finished eating, Ren headed to the joint's washroom.

Ren splashed water on his face. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes. Ren's phone beeped. His heart went up. Did his mum text him to check he arrived safely?

Ren pulled out his phone and deflated. No messages. Just a strange. . .

 _What is this?_ thought Ren.

A strange red and black eye filled half the screen on his BlackBerry. Ren tapped at the icon. No response. Great, the OS froze. The phone had a questionable battery life sure, but it never did this before.

He pocketed the phone and put his fake prescription glasses back on. When Ren tried to open the door, he found it locked. He jigged the knob a few more times then knocked loudly against the door.

"Heeeello! Anybody there?!" Ren called out.

No response. Awesome. Ren rolled his eyes.

Ren turned around and froze. In the washroom, blue flames were spurting from the floor and growing larger. Why hasn't the building smoke alarm gone off?

 _And why the fuck is it blue?_ Ren thought.

Ren swallowed. He pulled out his phone to call for help then cursed when Ren found the phone was still stuck at the screen with the evil red eye.

From the depths of the flames, Ren saw some sort of creature? A grinning face took the form of a phantom apparition in the fire. Then it morphed into a person. _Himself_. Except, it wasn't him. This clone of Ren had yellow eyes and a wild vibe.

Just as quickly as the deviant copycat appeared, it disappeared, along with the flames. Ren blinked a few times, not fully comprehending what just happened. He looked back at his phone. The image that filled up half the screen earlier, had reverted into a normal-sized icon. He quickly flicked the app to 'Uninstall'.

Ren tried the door again. This time it opened. The other patrons and staff of the restaurant seemed to be undisturbed. Ren opened his mouth, wanting to inform the staff what happened. He looked back at the washroom tiles and saw no scorch marks. He closed his mouth.

It was probably the lack of sleep, he assured himself. Yeah, that's what it was. Insomnia and disturbing dreams were making him hallucinate. Plus, it was better he did not draw the wrong kind of attention to himself.

* * *

The backstreets of Yongen-Jaya were cast in muted colours by the overhead grey sky. Bicycles and scooters parked on the side of alleys, next to corner shops. Just from entering, Ren could already see a small supermarket and a cinema.

Ren's eyes dropped from the powerlines ran haphazardly at the top. He decided liked the sombre charm of the place. Maybe this was not going to be bad after all.

Ren double-checked his phone. Right, so it was a Sojiro Sakura that was going to be taking care of him.

Ren approached a police officer, who looked like he had been in better moods.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, sir. Would you happen to know where Sojiro Sakura's house is?" asked Ren.

"It's in an alley a bit further back. Take a right after that apartment with the stairs," replied the officer.

"Thank you."

Tidbits of conversation dropped on Ren's ears as he walked.

" _The police are so lazy, they're just stealing taxpayer's money_."

" _No one has been taking responsibility. It's a waste of time to dwell on it._ "

Even the consciousness of society was not cheery too. Ren felt like there was something a bit downcast about Japan lately.

Ren came to a house which had a 'SAKURA SOJIRO' nameplate in the front. He rang the buzzer. No answer.

"Looks like he's not home again."

Ren looked to his right. A deliveryman was by his van, looking at his phone.

"Well, Leblanc's in the back alley so I might as well make my other deliveries first. . ." huffed the deliveryman.

Ren returned to the main alley, unsure. Leblanc? What was that? Ren stopped at the front of the supermarket, looking around lost.

* * *

 _Screams streaked across the street. In the distance, the siren sounds of emergency services wailed louder._

 _Shiori was dazed. What happened? She remembered walking with her friend, Mizuki from school. They were talking about Kamoshida's exploits when. . .when. . ._

" _Gah!" Shiori cried out._

 _She clutched at her neck and choked. Thorny lines of pain wrapped around her neck. Shiori panicked, making the pain and bleeding worse. She forced herself to calm down. It was hard to breathe, but if she stayed still, maybe she could make it._

 _Where was Mizuki?_

". . . _Shi. . .ori. . ." came a weak voice._

 _Although Shiori's vision was blurring from the loss of blood, she could make out her friend. Mizuki's legs were crushed under steel pipes. At the apex of the pile, a bigger piece of the construction pipes threatened to avalanche on her friend. If that happened, the blunt trauma would. . ._

Shit _, thought Shiori._

 _Shiori tried to move to her friend but seized up when she felt bits of skin tear off from her neck. She finally noticed her left arm was wrapped in a tangle of barbed wires, from her fingers, going up to her shoulder and_ -

That's what's wrapped around my neck, _Shiori realised._

". . . _Shiori. . .please save me," cried out Mizuki, her face mottled with blood and tears._

 _Shiori's breathing was starting to whiff faint. She was about to pass out from the bleeding, but there was still time to try and reach Mizuki. But if Shiori tried that, her neck would be torn open._

 _Shiori turned around, trying to find what was anchoring her with these wires. She saw the capsized truck which had been carrying construction materials. The roll of wires was tangled around the truck's tire and the hatched body of the driver's corpse, like some horror macabre. She was bound to this._

" _There's one over here!" shouted a fireman._

 _Shiori collapsed on the pavement, trying to stay conscious. A fireman and a paramedic entered her field of vision._

" _Fucking hell, look at her neck," gasped the fireman._

" _My fri-" Shiori tried to speak but choked when blood spilt out._

" _Don't talk. It's making you lose blood faster. We need to severe her from the wreckage, do you have something that can cut these wires?!" asked the paramedic._

 _Why couldn't these people see Mizuki was in more trouble than she was? Shiori tried to point her friend out to them, craning to see Mizuki as she did._

 _Before the darkness took over, the last thing Shiori saw was the heavy pipe rolling down to her friend._

X

Shiori Oshiro snapped out of the memory, on the realisation that she was about to drop her cup of tea. A bit of it spilt onto the rooftop of the Yongen-Jaya's humble cinema. Her grandma did not like Shiori coming out to the top because there were no railings, but grandpa was more easy-going and allowed her the leeway.

Shiori slowly breathed the scent of the assam tea. Her therapist encouraged this semi-meditative hobby of hers. Said it would help her better deal with the trauma from that incident last year.

Shiori took a sip and walked closer to the edge to observe 'the local wildlife of Yongen-Jaya' (as she coined in her head). Also known as the folks going about their lives in the backstreets. It had been a month since Shiori moved to her grandparents' home, which was a hybrid of a residential living and two commercial theatres. At this point, she had memorised the faces of all the cinema's patrons.

Shiori noticed the cup trembled slightly in her hands. Shiori carefully placed the cup down and hugged herself. Past experience of coping had taught her that this helped quell the shaking. Although it would be more productive if she stopped reliving the accident like a 70mm film.

"Shiori."

"Yes grandma?" Shiori called back.

"Could you be a dear and buy some milk from the supermarket, please. Your grandfather seems to be making up fridge inventory these days," said grandma.

Shiori drank the last of a tea and left it by the foldable fabric chair. She went down the trap door and its ladder, into the attic. Which was also, her bedroom. Her grandparents had another room to spare, but Shiori insisted on taking the attic. She told them 'the vibes of the place clicked' with her, a semantic which perhaps did not make 100% sense to the old folks; besides understanding that Shiori really liked the attic.

"Good, you're wearing a long-sleeve already," remarked grandma.

Shiori rolled her eyes. Heaven forbade that society found out. It was not just the scars Shiori had to hide on her arm.

When Shiori emerged from the supermarket, she saw a teenage boy whom she did not recognise. Shiori tilted her head, her long hair falling with. He looked rather unsure of his surroundings.

#

Ren spun on his heels, coming face to face with a tall brunette girl. She was pretty, in a black lipstick villainess kind of way, yet there was a kindness on her face which seemed to contradict that cliché. She wore a thick choker, a black Nirvana long sleeve, weathered jean shorts and sneakers.

Her left hand was gloved black, but curiously, her right hand was not. Despite the asymmetry and contradictions, it was her eyes that made Ren pause. If eyes were windows to a person's soul, these ones showed-

"Hi," said the girl.

"Hello," said Ren.

A few seconds went by with just them looking at each other. Didn't she feel this was awkward? Ren wondered. He cleared his throat.

"Umm. . .I'm kinda new to this neighbourhood," said Ren.

She nodded as if expecting him to say that. Right.

"Would you mind pointing me to this 'Leblanc'?" Ren asked.

The girl pointed to her left.

"Head along this way and take the first left turn. Just a bit in, you should find Café Leblanc," she replied.

Before Ren could thank her, she hurried past him, into the cinema behind him. Interesting escape route for someone who was shopping for milk, Ren felt.

A bell tinkled when Ren entered Leblanc. He found himself in an old-fashion interior. Despite the senescence, the place was very clean and well maintained. Two customers were watching TV. The third person was propped on a stool, reading a newspaper. The café manager?

"A public transit bus was driven down an opposing lane with its customers still in it. The citizens can't live in peace if this keeps up," said the man on the newscast.

"Vertical is. . .the name of a shellfish used for farming pearls. . ." the manager mumbled to himself. The manager looked up from the newspaper, finally noticing Ren.

". . .oh, right. They did say that was today." said the manager.

The elderly couple stood from their table, telling the manager the payment was on the table.

"Thanks for coming," said the manager.

"It's a good thing this place is a back alley. We don't need to worry about any cars crashing around here," said one of the patrons.

"A what now?" asked the manager.

"You know, those string of rampage accidents. I just hope none of that happens around here."

"Hmph. None of my concern," said the manager.

Something told Ren this was the sort of person who was very inclusive to his own affairs and not much else. If this was Sojiro Sakura. . .

"Haha. Well, we'll be on our way."

The customers left. The manager sighed.

"Four hours for a single cup of joe. So, you're Ren?" asked the manager.

"Yes. Please take care of me," said Ren with a slight bow.

"Uh huh. . .I'm Sojiro Sakura. You'll be in my custody over the next year," said Sojiro. He ran his eyes up and down Ren, trying to measure the kind of guy he was.

"I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you're the one, huh? Well, a customer of mine and your parents know each other and. . .well not that it matters. Follow me."

Sojiro led Ren up a staircase, located at the end of the café. They came to an attic which looked like it was a five-star hotel for dust mites.

"This is your room. I'll at least give your sheets for your bed," said Sojiro.

Ren carefully kept his face neutral.

"Hmm? You look like you wanna say something," remarked Sojiro.

"It's. . .big," said Ren.

"It's on you to clean up the rest. I'll be leaving after I lock up each day. You might be alone at night, but that doesn't mean you're allowed to do anything stupid. I'll throw you out if you cause any trouble." said Sojiro.

Ren could only nod.

"Now, let's get the gist of your situation. You played the white knight when some guy was forcing himself on a woman, he gets hurt, then sues you. Right? Why would you stick your nose in a matter between two adults? You did injure him, yeah?" said Sojiro.

Good thing Ren figured out the kind of person Sojiro was, downstairs. He would have lost his poker face here.

". . .and after getting that criminal record, you were facing expulsion from your high school. But your parents' influence made the damage collateral, by making a compromise that you would be sent away for a year, to let the heat on your reputation die down. Or to put it another way, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass."

". . ."

Sojiro continued, "It's best you don't say or do anything unnecessary. I'm in the restaurant business, so any delinquency affects me. You keep your head down for a year, kid, and maybe, your probation will be lifted."

"I understand," Ren said quietly.

"And don't forget, we'll be going to Shujin tomorrow," said Sojiro.

Ren read the school's pamphlet on the train. Shujin Academy. Apparently, it was one of the better schools around here.

"It's of very rare circumstances they'd accept someone like you. But I guess you can thank your stars for being born as a rich kid, whose family has connections. We'll properly introduce ourselves to the staff then," said Sojiro.

". . ."

"What a waste of my Sunday," Sojiro muttered, leaving the place.

* * *

Shiori closed down the theatre. Upstairs, her grandparents were probably in bed already. This had become routine once she had acclimatised to the place. A few times, she was allowed to screen movies when a staff member wasn't available.

After the main doors were locked, she turned off the lobby lights and headed up to the attic. That was when her phone buzzed. Caller ID told her it was mum.

"Hey mum," answered Shiori.

"Hello sweety. How was your day?"

They went through the typical mother-daughter Q/A that made Shiori answer on autopilot.

"Good to hear. I actually called to remind you about tomorrow," said mum.

"Yeah, I know. The re-enrolment at Shujin," Shiori said flippantly. Her grip on the mobile phone tightened by a slight.

"Are you alright, dear? I mean, after everything that's happened. . .with you dropping out of high school in your second year because of your injuries. Then there was your rehabilitation. I spoke to your therapist, she feels that it's okay to give you more time-"

"I'll be fine, mum. _Really_. Besides, you know dad wants me to get back on track asap," said Shiori.

". . .yes, I suppose this will help you earn some points back with your father. . .after your phase with that tattoo person-"

"Takumi. His name was Takumi. And yes-" said Shiori, consciously tugging her left sleeve.

"-he was a tattoo artist," she added in a tight voice.

"Of course," her mother said quickly, not wanting to upset Shiori. She treated her daughter like the most fragile kind of glass, ever since the accident.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye," said Shiori.

"Goodnight sweety."

Shiori ended the line. She sat on the bed, going through her phone messages. Some of the students from school had emailed her. Word had already got out that model student and once-council president contender Shiori Oshiro, will be coming back to school. How things have changed so much since last year.

Shiori went through her contacts list. Some names she remembered, others she did not. Shiori grimaced when she saw 'Makoto Niijima'. Having her contact was a necessary evil as they were both on the student council board last year. Apparently, Niijima had made Student Class President this year.

Shiori stopped the scroll at 'Mizuki Yamamoto'. Shiori might be returning to school, but Mizuki wasn't. She clicked on Mizuki's name and the contact ID picture enlarged. It was a selfie the two of them took in Jinbocho. She switched to the IM app.

Shiori replied to a few messages before tossing her phone on the pillow. She fell back on the bed and huffed. How did she feel about returning to school? Shiori wondered herself.

Shiori thought about playing some Guilty Gear Xrd on her PS4, but she felt tilted from the call with her mother and did not want to get bodied in the ranked matches because of that. Stuff that.

Shiori picked up her Lumia phone and opened Cortana.

"Cortana, will I need an umbrella tonight?" asked Shiori.

"I don't think you will need an umbrella. But you might need a coat," replied her phone.

Perfect.

Two minutes later, Shiori was lying in a sleeping bag, at the top of the cinema. By her side was an energy drink and a portable speaker, playing _Bent_. Shiori did noy think of herself as a Matchbox Twenty fan, but she did like this one song from the band.

Shiori pulled off her glove and held out her scarred hand to the light polluted sky. No stars. But hey, the moon was there to keep her company.

* * *

After Sojiro left, Ren changed into easier fitting clothes, which were in the luggage sent ahead of his train ride here. He then started cleaning the attic, marvelling at the epic proportions of dust and clutter. At some point, Ren lost track of time.

Sojiro came up to his bedroom.

"So that explains the noises I hear you making up here. I didn't think you were cleaning though," said Sojiro.

Sojiro paused, surveying the place. Ren paused from dusting and checked his phone. Whoa, he had been at this for hours.

"Actually, the place doesn't look too bad," Sojiro said slowly, nodding approvingly.

"Thanks. Although, I still have much to take care of," said Ren, gesturing to the ladder and boxes.

Sojiro nodded.

"Makes sense you'd want to keep your bedroom clean. Anyway, I'm locking up for the night. Make sure you're up and ready in the morning," said Sojiro.

When Sojiro was gone, Ren decided he'd probably get the rest of the cleaning done later. He put away the broom and had another look around the place. It wasn't ideal, sure, but at least Ren had a place to stay.

Ren collapsed onto his bed. The mattress made a funny groaning sound at the burden of his weight.

How did it all come to this? a part of him wondered. The rest of him knew. Yes, of course, it was that powerful politician who controlled the police in that district, like his 'bitches'.

 _But still_ , thought Ren.

Ren looked out the window, to the moon. Part of him was still in shock at how quickly his life had changed.

Ren's BlackBerry beeped. Did his parents message him? He slipped the phone out of his pocket. Nope. But it was that same red eye app.

 _Didn't I delete you?_

Ren uninstalled the app again and restarted his phone. That should hopefully get rid of it. His eyelids grew heavy. Ren fell asleep, into a world that was not quite reality or dream.

* * *

 **And that's the end of chapter 1. This is the first time I've ever written fanfiction so it was an interesting writing exercise. Just a few things to note if you plan to read further on. This is a story that will contain mature themes, scenes with an unfiltered framing of carnality and violence. There will be no gore stuff (not a fan myself). Also, the story will start diverging more from the game, here on out. Biggest changes are the story and battle formats.  
**

 **While P5's battle system and dynamics works for it as a video game, for a piece of writing, I felt I needed to overhaul a lot of things, including Palace traversals, to keep the narration fluid. Story-wise, this will be a more personal and emotional take for Joker (who will bloom in the next chapter), and less on the world-needs-to-be-saved thing.  
** ** **If you're wondering who Ren will be paired with, it will be with Ann Takamaki. But don't take it for granted :P The matters of the heart are not always as simple as a train on a linear track :)  
****

 **Shiori Oshiro is my OC. I think she will be the only major OC for this fanfic. And yes, she will be a Phantom Thief. Her code-name: Comedienne.**

 **I'll try to post chapter 2 in a few days.**


	2. Manacles and Blue Satin

The moon was too large. The clouds were the wrong colour. Not white or grey, but absolute zero blue. This couldn't be the real world, Ren thought.

Yet the virtues of a dream were not present. The cold sharp edges of manacles bit into his wrists and ankles, in a manner that was very acute to senses of waking reality. When Ren's bare feet brushed on the dusty floor of the long courtyard, he found his leg bound to a chain and ball.

It was a courtyard of a mansion. Like a backdrop from Lovecraft's mind. Dark windows surrounded Ren at all sides.

Ren's only companion was a cherry blossom tree, miraculous pink in the black and blue world he found himself in. The blanket of clouds had a hole in it, which allowed a sunbeam to shine down at the crown of the tree

At the only exit of the courtyard, waited a guillotine. Ren shivered.

" _It would seem you're close to your awakening, Trickster_ ," boomed a voice.

Lightning flashed; a blue hue. A short gentleman had apparated with it. He was partially bald, tossing a black cane from one spindly hand to another, beneath the longest aquiline nose Ren had ever seen.

"Who are you?" Ren asked sharply.

Something struck the back of Ren's knees, forcing him to kneel.

"Watch it, inmate! That's our master you're speaking to!"

"Your tone is most disconcerting, inmate."

To Ren's left strutted a child in a blue satin uniform. To his right, came another. Identical attire and features. Twins.

Anger flared in Ren. He was fucking sick of people pushing him over, treating him like some fucking subservient-

A loud roaring boom emitted from the sky with Ren's spike in anger. The mansion's panes of glass vibrated in echoes of brittle. The gentleman's eyes widened.

"Very interesting. To think that your heart would take this form. I was expecting a prison, given the ongoing currents in your life," said the gentleman.

The gentleman looked behind him, to the guillotine.

"Oh-hoh, well. . .I was expecting that," said the gentleman.

"Who. . .are you?" Ren asked again - a cold menace biting at the question.

One of the twins raised her baton to strike at Ren. The gentleman held up his hand, halting the corporal punishment.

"That is a fair question. My name is Igor. These are my assistants, Caroline and Justine," said Igor.

"What am I doing here? What is this place?" asked Ren.

"Why, this is a plane reflecting your heart, Trickster. It is your place, so it is natural you would be here," answered Igor.

"Then what are _you_ doing here? Did you have something to do with that fire I saw in the restaurant? What do you want?" asked Ren.

Igor laughed. The sound made the hairs on the back of Ren's neck stand up. There was something about this man that bothered Ren, in this already-disturbing place.

"All questions will be answered in due time. I only came here tonight to inform you, Trickster," said Igor.

Ren swallowed when Igor made a sweeping gesture to the guillotine.

"You have been caught in the wicked schemes of angels, demons and gods. At the end of the road, all I see is your death. This ruin is a sharp knife to the short life you've led so far. What is ironic; the god of mischief and his rascal, do not need to wield the knife themselves," said Igor.

". . ."

Something in Igor's face softened. As if he felt sorry for Ren.

"Not unless you can do something about it. The recent wrongs done against you, have created something dark within you, Ren Amamiya. Take a look around you. Does this world look like the heart of a hero to you?" asked Igor.

"Old man, I don't know what ganja you've been smoking, but you can fuck off with all these talks of Loki and hero-"

Ren's retort was cut short by two swift strikes from batons, each strike from the twins respectively. Ren's mouth had fucked off to the ground. Was his jaw broken?

Igor sighed, shaking his head at the twins.

"Take it easy on him, you two," said Igor.

"But he disrespected you, master!" protested Justine.

Lightning struck the rooftop of the mansion. A fire started at the top. Petals from the sakura tree fell at five centimetres per second. Blood dripped from Ren's lips, two-toning one of the fallen petals.

"Take these words with you tonight, Trickster. Change yourself. Change your cognition of yourself and the world. Or die. This corrosive hate and anger you carry within you, makes you no different from _him_ ," said Igor.

Embers from the rooftop mixed with the sakura petals falling around Igor.

"As a god, I've planted the seed of rebellion to tap out the dormant personas in you and future allies. Give my regards to _the Thief of Twilight_ ," said Igor, who nodded to the twins.

"Your turn, Caroline," said Justine.

Caroline gently caressed Ren by the chin. Her small thumb wiped blood off his lips. Before Ren could get smartarse about the affectation, her baton came swinging at his temple. Ren blacked out. Back into 'sleep' this time.

* * *

Shiori took a sample sniff of her morning breath and nearly passed out. She queasily shook off the smell, her tousled profile bobbing in the bathroom mirror. After washing and freshening up, she got ready for Shujin.

Anime cliché and her grandmother demanded she would at least grab a toast in her mouth and not skip breakfast for being late, but Shiori waved grandma off saying she'd grub ramen after the formalities of re-enrolment were done.

Shiori got into her Uber, which was waiting outside the backstreets. It was probably faster this way, rather than by train. The driver started blabbering something-something Japan sucks lately, something Shido, something. Shiori nodded, pretending to listen, while she fixed up her braid, which fell left on her shoulder. She also double-checked her choker, making sure the scars were hidden.

Shujin Academy had not changed much to Shiori. The boring architecture exuded the same vibes of the pro-achievement culture she had come to dislike even more, during her hiatus from formal education. Then there were the dark secrets with the school's volleyball team. . .

Shiori noticed flowerbeds near the steps. That was new. Did Okumura-san plant them?

A blue Subaru pulled up. About time, thought Shiori. She tugged her sleeve and glove, self-conscious.

Mrs. Oshiro got out. She was a woman of heavy make-up and expensive salon, which gave the illusion that she was slightly older than her daughter. Mrs. Oshiro smiled at Shiori, almost skipping in her heels when she came to embrace her daughter. Shiori hugged her mum back. Despite her own adolescent callousness, it felt good to see her mother again.

"Is dad. . .?" Shiori asked, looking to the Subaru.

The car was stand-still, its indicator light blinking. Mrs. Oshiro pursed her lips. The car drove off.

"He's just very busy with work, darling. A short meeting with a distributor, while we meet the principal," assured Mrs. Oshiro.

Shiori was the only good liar in the family.

The school receptionist welcomed them and said the principal was speaking with another student who is enrolling at Shujin today. While Mrs. Oshiro signed some papers, Shiori sat herself at the lounge, outside the principal's office. The door to his office was ajar.

". . .you will immediately be expelled if you cause any problems."

Shiori sat up straight. That was the principal's voice. Hang on, why would you say that to a new student who was just enrolling here? Shiori never liked the lard-ass, but even this was unusual.

#

Principal Kobayakawa did not soften his words with Ren.

". . .the only reason you're permitted to be here is because of a sizeable donation your mother made to the school. Money is all that validates _a convict_ like you to stand in my sight," said the principal.

Ren said nothing. He felt that anything he could say would still fuel the image of an arrogant rich brat who got violent easily. The violent part bothered Ren since he was already suppressing the catharsis to aggressively snap back at everyone who was getting on his case. Part of Ren felt ashamed that these people may be right about him on that count.

Standing next to the principal was a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Perhaps she was younger than that, Ren guessed. There were dark circles under her tired eyes, and her short hair was borderline unruly.

"This is the teacher in charge of your class," said the principal.

"I'm Sadayo Kawakami. Here's your student ID. . ."

#

 _Sweet mother of Totoro!_ thought Shiori. A convict?! Maybe she won't be 100% bored this year at school. Shiori wondered what he looked like. Probably tall, muscular, maybe some scars with a mean and intimidating vibe. Did he murder someone? Got arrested for gang violence?

#

". . .come to the faculty office when you arrive at school tomorrow. I'll show you to your classroom," said Ms. Kawakami.

Ren nodded.

There was a knock at the door.

"Principal Kobayakawa, the Oshiros are here," said the receptionist.

"Ah yes, please send them in," said the principal.

"About time we leave. I've got a store to tend to," grumbled Sojiro.

"Have a good day. And Sakura-san, please keep a close eye on him," said the principal.

"I'll impress on him the gravity of his situation," said Sojiro.

Sojiro was the first to leave. Before Ren could follow, a girl stepped in. Her impatient eyes stopped at him. Ren recognised her. The girl who helped point him to Leblanc. She tilted her head at Ren, the same way she did outside the supermarket.

Only this time, she looked at Ren like he was the strangest thing she had ever seen. Despite that, her eyes were the kindest ones to look at him in this room.

Ren cleared his throat, indicating she was blocking the doorway. Shiori stepped away, but slowly.

"Welcome back to Shujin, Shiori," said the principal. Shiori tore her gaze from the bespectacled boy. A much warmer tone than the one he had for the new kid, Shiori noted. Mrs. Oshiro entered, looking curiously at Ren.

"You coming?" Sojiro called out.

Ren left the office.

Shiori and Mrs. Oshiro sat down. Ms. Kawakami was here too. Was she going to be her homeroom teacher this year?

"First of all, I'd like to offer my congratulations from having recovered from the terrible accident you went through last year, Shiori," said the principal.

"Thank you. Yes I. . .it is good to be back at Shujin," said Shiori.

The principal smiled, beaming. Shiori felt pressed to get this formality out of the way.

"My daughter will be in your class this year?" Mrs. Oshiro asked Ms. Kawakami.

"That is correct. Second-year, class 2-D. It's unfortunate the ordeal accosted Shiori to miss so much of the curriculum last year, that she must repeat," said Ms. Kawakami.

"I'm sure getting back on track will be no issue for a top scorer like Shiori," said the principal.

"Yes. Saddening that Mizuki won't have the same chance," murmured Ms. Kawakami.

"What happened was unfortunate, but it's relieving we did not lose our star student," said the principal.

Shiori's hands betrayed her anger, gripping the edge of her skirt tight. Even her mother had a slight smile on her face. This was not the first example of the stuck-up culture since the accident.

 _Good thing it was Shiori who made it._

 _Yes, poor Mizuki. But at least the pretty girl is still here._

 _Yamamoto-chan? Err I guess she was nice but Shiori has a way better rack._

 _I'm so glad you were the lucky one Shiori-sama. I know you can make it back in time to become class prez!_

Sentiments that made Shiori feel sick. Sometimes she wanted to do violent things to these people.

Nobody had noticed Shiori's hands.

Mrs. Oshiro cleared her throat.

"About the choker and glove that Shiori is wearing. You got my email about why she has to wear it to school, yes Principal Kobayakawa?" asked Mrs. Oshiro.

The principal nodded.

"This is about keeping the scars hidden?"

"Yes. It would be beneficial for Shiori, psychologically. Plus, the scars may disturb and distract other students in this learning environment."

"I can totally understand that. Normally, Shujin's dress code will not allow such things. But given the circumstances, I am perfectly fine with making an exemption for Shiori. Are you sure you will be okay wearing long sleeves during the summer?" the principal asked.

"I'll be fine," said Shiori.

She gave a small smile to Ms. Kawakami and the principal. Better for them to believe she was the good girl they thought she still was.

For now.

One year ago, she was just like them. A casualty of being part of the coterie of winning awards, vying for adulation from teachers and being a carefully crafted prototype of good example. Even if it meant ignoring the suffering of others in the background. . .

Re-enrollment wrapped up quick, but not quick enough for Shiori. At last, they were leaving the school. Shiori waved goodbye to her mother, who blew a kiss from the Subaru's window. Shiori's dad was still a bit too busy to meet her daughter, upon arrival for pickup.

"Shiori?"

Shit. That sounded a lot like-

Shiori drew back a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing Suguru Kamoshida from the entrance-way. He looked down at Shiori, his muscular arms folded.

 _This motherfucker_ , thought Shiori.

"Sensei," greeted Shiori, with a bow.

The door swung open with Ms. Kawakami stepping outside, yawning to herself. Shiori thought she looked like a zombie.

"Kawakami-san. You have my sympathies for the troublesome situation you're in," Kamoshida said to Kawakami.

Opportunity to escape. Shiori was about to break into a run when she heard-

"I can't believe they shoved a truant into my class. A male teacher would have been better suited to handle this," said Ms. Kawakami.

Oh-hoh, it was about that new kid from earlier. Shiori walked a further bit down the steps then pretended to be checking something on her phone. He was going to be in Shiori's class?

"I mean, how could they let someone like that into this school?" sighed Kamoshida.

 _Real rich coming from you, Kamoshida_ , thought Shiori.

"Apparently his parents are affluent. A donation and some favours will be called in by them to polish the school's reputation," said Ms. Kawakami.

"And here I thought my volleyball team had contributed amply to that," said Kamoshida.

"Yes, you've done so much for this school. It's been an incredible thing," said Kawakami.

Shiori rolled her eyes. Oh Ms. Kawakami, why don't you just to your knees and give him a handjob, while you lubricate him with those praises? Shiori thought.

"Hehe. Well, the huge expectations from you and others is a problem itself, with the tournament coming up. We're going to have to make up for the track team too. Anyway, I gotta head off to practice. See you around. And hey, don't worry too much about that kid alright? I'll kick him out the school myself if something happens," said Kamoshida.

Kamoshida looked down at Shiori. He looked like he wanted to speak to her.

Shiori pocketed her phone and skedaddled for the train station.

* * *

Ren found Sojiro's yellow VW Beetle to be comfy. Which was convenient, as they were stuck in traffic.

". . .so how was it? The school I mean. Think you'll manage?"

Ren thought about the cold eyes Ms. Kawakami gave him, as well as the principal's harsh words. Well jeez, at least there won't be a teacher ordering his execution.

"Eh, we'll see. I think the principal _probably_ dislikes me," said Ren.

Sojiro suppressed a chortle. At least the kid had some dry humour.

"Still, if that's how they're going to treat you at school, I'd hate to think what people will say about me in the future," said Sojiro.

". . ."

"What a troublesome kid I've taken in," sighed Sojiro.

"You know, I've been wondering about that. Despite everything you say, you still took me in. Why?" asked Ren.

Sojiro averted his eyes.

"I was asked. . .and I kinda happened to say yes. Plus, I got paid for it, so there's that," Sojiro said gruffly.

Ren felt like that was not the full answer.

". . . _another train has derailed at Shibuya station, causing congestion in all traffic ways_ -" said the radio.

"Explains this traffic jam," muttered Sojiro.

"That's another accident," Ren observed.

"There has been a lot of those lately," said Sojiro.

* * *

Ren caught the diary tossed at him.

"What's this for?" asked Ren.

"Your responsibility. You are to log your daily activities in that. Your probation may not strictly have civilian limitations, but I still have to maintain records as your guardian," said Sojiro.

Sojiro's phone rang.

"Hello? Yes, I'm on my way right now. . .won't be long now."

Whoever Sojiro had spoken to on the phone, had broken the frown he had for Ren and turned him smiling. A woman in his life? Ren wondered.

"Anyway I'm locking up, so do whatever you – well, not whatever you want. Don't trash the place or I'll report you to the police. Clear?" asked Sojiro.

"I'll log it into the diary. _Note to self: Don't burn the place down_ ," said Ren.

Sojiro tried not to show it, but he was liking the kid a bit now.

After Sojiro left, Ren prepped his things for school tomorrow. Despite people dismissing him, he wanted to make a good first impression at school. Hopefully turnabout Ms. Kawakami's idea of him? Ren checked his phone. No messages from home.

Ren sat on his bed, rubbing his head. Despite his bantering with Sojiro, it was all wisps compared to the emptiness he felt in his chest. Ren thought about that crazy dream (if that's what it was) with that Igor character. What was happening to him? Is this what they called mental illness? Your own mind being an enemy?

Just as Ren was about to head off to sleep, he heard a phone ringing. It wasn't his. Ren cocked his head. The ringing sounded like it was coming from downstairs.

Ren headed down and saw it was an old-fashioned yellow phone, that was shrilling.

Ren answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Sojiro.

". . .you're calling me on this public phone?"

"I make a point not to keep guys' numbers on my phone," said Sojiro.

Not a bad rule.

"I'm calling because I forgot to turn the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSE'. Could you do that for me?" asked Sojiro.

Ren looked to the door. Indeed, the sign was unturned.

"Sure. I can put this into my routine if you'd like. Turning the sign when you leave, every night," said Ren.

"That would be useful. You do that then," The line clicked dead.

It was probably a lucky thing, Sojiro was abrupt. The bell tinkled when someone entered the café. Ren placed the receiver down and faced her.

Shiori looked around the place, ignoring Ren's pointed stare. She had seen Café Leblanc numerous times from the outside, but decided it probably was not for her, given the old crowd that frequented the place.

The olde worlde style wasn't bad, Shiori decided. Shiori finally turned to Ren.

"I was right to track you here. Good thing we ran into each other that day. I'm Shiori Oshiro. What's your name?" said Shiori, holding out her hand.

"We're closed," Ren said, warily. What did she want?

"Nice to meet you, Closed-san," said Shiori, dropping her hand to her hip.

Shiori propped herself on a stool by the counter. It did not look like she was going to leave, just yet. Ren folded his arms.

"It's actually Ren. Ren Amamiya. What do you want?"

* * *

 **Bruh, this writing thing sure takes time.**

 **Chapter 2 covered less ground than I expected (I had to cut it as I don't want to exceed 4k words per chapter) so I guess in Chapter 3 we will see Kamoshida's castle. As well as Ryuji, Ann, Mishima and possibly Makoto. I'm not sure when I will be able to post Chapter 3 as the charger wire for my Surface Pro 4 has become faulty and I'm not sure when the replacement will arrive via postage (shouldn't take too long, I feel).**

 **It has turned out to be a good thing that I started writing this fanfic. I find myself being motivated to get back into reading. Starting small with pocket novels, then working my way up.**


	3. Castle of Lust

_**Shichibu** : Japanese term for 3/4 sleeve tattoo, to the mid-forearm_

* * *

"Are you always this guarded? I was expecting someone more. . .confident and easy-going," said Shiori.

Ren rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well, I've been on a cool streak of disappointing people lately," said Ren.

Shiori could see he was trying to be noncommittal with the statement, but his words were laced with bitterness.

"I can relate to that," said Shiori.

"Uh-huh."

"No really," insisted Shiori.

She hesitated, giving a furtive glance to the door to make sure no one was there. Shiori pulled back her left sleeve and showed it to Ren. Ren's eyes widened. Tattoos. The exposed forearm profiled the edge of a samurai, surrounded by barbed wires.

Being inked was heavily shunned by conservative culture in Japan.

"Shichibu. Are you from a Yakuza family?" quacked Ren.

"What? You missed the black car parked outside? Relax-" Shiori quickly added at Ren's aghast look.

"No, I'm not. Do you know why I showed this to you?" asked Shiori, rolling back her sleeve.

"You overheard my meeting with Principal Kobayakawa this morning," said Ren, dropping his arms.

Shiori nodded.

"I figured coming in here with you all high strung, and bringing up that I know you're a convict, might flip you out. Which is why I'm here," said Shiori.

Ren sat down opposite to Shiori, at one of the tables.

Shiori held her chin, studying Ren.

"I wanted to say hi, and find out what kind of person you are. You had me curious you know. I also wasn't expecting this place to close this early," said Shiori, shrugging sheepishly.

"Right. Sorry I made this melodramatic. You're also a Shujin student?" asked Ren.

Shiori nodded.

"And you're new?" asked Shiori.

"Yeah. Only moved into the neighbourhood yesterday," said Ren.

"Had to change schools because of something you did, huh?"

Ren snorted.

"It's not as exciting as you think. I was just the white knight on a blight night," said Ren.

Shiori's phone beeped. She checked the notification then got to her feet.

"I'm not sure if Shujin was the best place to transfer to, if you were trying to leave trouble behind," said Shiori.

"What do you mean?"

"Eavesdrops and Shujin experience tells me a certain teacher might single you out, because you have a criminal record. You're an anomaly in his domain," said Shiori, pausing at the door.

"At this point, I've seen all the abuse there is, thrown at me. One more person is just one papercut added to the hundreds I'm already ignoring," muttered Ren.

"Heeey, no need to be so emo about this. At least you've already made a friend before school has officially started. Just one day, and we already know each other's secrets," teased Shiori.

"If that took only one day, I'd hate to see what might happen if we stay friends for a year," Ren said wryly.

"Hehe. I look forward to it. I bid you adieu - . . .do you want to travel to Shujin tomorrow together?" asked Shiori.

"If that's alright with you. I haven't taken the morning train commute yet to Shujin."

"Sweet. Meet you at the station entrance then. Goodnight."

"Night."

The bell tinkled.

Ren turned the sign then headed upstairs to bed. He felt slightly better than he did ten minutes ago.

* * *

 _Next day_.

Ren stepped under the store shade of _Jeunesse_ _et_ _Beaute_ , quirking his mouth at the rain. Shiori crouched next to him sulking, wishing she had asked Cortana about the weather. There were three things abundant at Shiori's home; popcorn, used movie tickets and forgotten umbrellas. Yet not one of them was in her hand.

Shiori sighed, removing her left earphone.

"Maybe we can leg it when the rain lightens up?" Shiori said to Ren, looking up at him.

Ren noticed this girl had gotten a few looks from the pedestrians, especially the men. Their reaction did not surprise Ren. Shiori was crouching and bracing her head on her arms in a pout, making her a potential exhibition of panty-peeking. To Shiori's credit, she had her school bag sitting in front, dismaying any low-key lookers.

Before Ren said anything, the door to the boutique store opened. A hooded Shujin student in red tights stepped out.

#

Ann Takamaki pulled her hood back, her beau blue eyes looking up at the grey sky. She had told herself she'd be in the store for just five minutes and now it already started raining. What a pity.

Ann looked to her right and saw a boy with messy hair staring at her.

#

The blonde girl noticed Ren. They both held eye contact, a strange evanescence in this rainy day with pervy businessmen on their way to work. The blonde girl slowly raised her hand, reaching out to Ren and. . .flicked him in-between the eyebrows. Ren snapped out of his reverie.

"It's rude to stare," said Ann, but she offered a small smile to show she was not really slighted. Some things you got used to.

Shiori coughed and cleared her throat. Shiori's amusement washed away when a car pulled in front of them and the window rolled down. Kamoshida was in the driver's seat.

"Hey! Do you want a ride?" said Kamoshida.

Ren and Shiori realised he was talking to Ann. This was new, Shiori noted. Why did the half-Finnish, half-Japanese beauty get this familiar with someone like Kamoshida? Unless. . .

Shiori did not catch what Ann said back, but she got into the vehicle.

Kamoshida looked to Ren and Shiori. Shiori noticed Kamoshida's eyes lingered at where her bag was, and he frowned for the wrong reasons. Ren noticed Shiori had a middle finger hiding behind her bag, directed at the car. What was up with this?

"Do you two want a ride too?" asked Kamoshida.

"We're good!" Shiori called back.

Kamoshida narrowed his eyes at Shiori. Shiori noticed Ann had a downcast expression. She seemed uncomfortable. Shiori was starting to get a picture of what was going on with this Uber hentai thing and she could tell that Ren too, felt like something was off here.

The car drove off.

No sooner when Kamoshida and Ann were gone, another student came into their proximity, stumbling into a stop. He had dyed blonde hair and wore a red T-shirt under his school blazer.

"Damn that pervy teacher!" cursed Ryuji Sakamoto.

Shiori heard a low beep come from Ren's pocket. Was that his phone?

Shiori stood up, patting down her skirt. The rain had lightened enough for them to brave a brisk walk.

Ryuji noticed Ren standing in front of the store.

"What are you looking at? Planning on snitching on me to Kamoshida?" Ryuji asked Ren aggressively.

Shiori rolled her eyes. Ryuji was still abrasively honest with his emotions. That had not changed since last year.

"Who now?" asked Ren.

". . .you didn't notice? Kamoshida was just in that car – oh hey Shiori. Guess you're back now?" said Ryuji.

Shiori slung up her bag.

"Morning. Yes, I am. This is Ren Amamiya. _He's new_. So he doesn't know who Kamoshida is-" Shiori broke off.

Why was Ryuji standing like that? Shiori noticed blonde boy stood hunched, lowering his centre of gravity and directed most of his weight to one leg.

"That explains why you don't look familiar. I'm Ryuji Sakamoto," said Ryuji.

"Well met," Ren said wryly.

"I guess Kamoshida is still unpopular with the track team?" asked Shiori.

Ryuji's expression darkened. Ren was feeling keyed-up. The new school day had barely begun and it looked like Shujin had no shortage of drama.

"The track team doesn't exist anymore," said Ryuji, not meeting her eyes.

Shiori looked at Ryuji's legs again. A quicksand feeling was forming at her stomach. What else had happened during her absence?

"Damn that guy pisses me off! Who does he think he is, the king of the castle?!" spat Ryuji.

Ren's phone beeped again.

"I think the rain has lightened up. And save your venom for another occasion, you're unsettling the new kid," said Shiori.

"Yeah, it ain't too bad. You guys wanna tag?" asked Ryuji.

"Sure," said Ren.

Ryuji led the way, with Ren in the middle. Shiori was frowning to herself. Did things with Kamoshida get worse at school? She figured Makoto would have done something out of competency, as student class president. Especially if Shiori's suspicions about Ryuji were true.

Ren gasped, stopping in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" asked Shiori.

Ren looked up to the sky. There was something isolated and quiet about the rest of Aoyama-Itchome - with just the three of them in this alley.

"Forget it," said Ren.

They exited the alleyway and arrived at Shujin Academy. Or at least, where Shujin was supposed to be.

"I thought you were being figurative when you said, 'king of the castle', Ryuji," said Ren.

"Wait, what the heck? We did go the right way," said Ryuji.

"We did," said Shiori.

The three of them stared at the strange castle. Torchlights hued its bottom-half in orange. Top-half was pink, thanks to a saturated sky. The kind of pink that reminded Shiori of one of those love-hotels she once visited.

"The Shujin Academy letter plate is here," said Ryuji.

"O – K," she said slowly.

"Let's go in and find out what this is about," said Ren.

They entered the castle.

X

Instead of the school lobby entrance, they found themselves in what seemed to be an expensive movie set. Ash and blue stained chandeliers chinked above red carpets and dark stone floors. Polychromic torches on walls gave the interior a delirious personality, with the changing spectrums of light. Ren swept his eyes past the purple banners and stopped at a crouched figure at the base of a grand staircase.

Shiori walked a further bit away from the boys. This was puzzling. She peeked down a castle window and saw waves crashing against rooky rocks. There was a pier and distant pinpricks of moving lanterns on its platform. The distant ocean clouds rumbled a stormy purple.

Lightning flashed followed by a thunder, which had the undertones of a man laughing. Shiori's arms started to tremble. Shiori grabbed herself to still before the others noticed. Shiori rounded to the guys.

"I don't get it. Why does the school look like this?" asked Ryuji.

Ren raised a finger to his lips and pointed to the grand stairs. Shiori identified a cloaked child crouching there. What was this person doing in a high school?

 _Nah uh. High school? This can't be one_ , thought Shiori.

"Huh? Is that a kid? Why are you trying to be quiet?" Ryuji asked confused.

"Shiori," said Ren quietly.

Shiori knew what he meant. This place was giving the creeps.

"We should leave," said Shiori in a low voice.

The child suddenly stood. Its back was still facing them, but it was obvious now that it was aware of the three visitors.

"I don't know what you guys are all strung-up for. It's just a kid. Hey!" Ryuji called out to the child.

It did not turn to them.

Ryuji walked up to the child.

"Hey there, are you lost?" Ryuji asked kindly.

"Ryuji," hissed Shiori.

"What?" Ryuji asked, looking back at them.

The child slowly turned to them. Ren gasped when he saw its face. Shiori clamped her mouth.

"Huh? You guys are acting really weird y'know? It's just a-" Ryuji looked down at the 'child' and froze.

A Jack-O-Lantern head was in place, instead of a human head. Yellow flames snake-licked at its mouth and eye openings.

" _Intruders_ ," said the Jack-O-Child.

Swirls of red and black vortexed from the floor to the head of beings materialising. More Jack-Os, only these three were styled and sized to medieval knights. Ryuji's jaw dropped. One of the knights swung its hilt at Ryuji's temple, knocking him out.

"Sh-sh-shit. You're seeing this too?" asked Shiori.

"I don't suppose this is a hazing prank the students like to do to the new kid?" asked Ren, pushing up his glasses.

"I'm pretty sure it is not!"

" _Get them_ ," said the Jack-O-Child, pointing to Ren and Shiori.

Flames spewed out of the Jack-O-Knights' grinning mouths. The inside of their clanking armour sounded like some furnace at full crank, as they advanced to Ren and Shiori.

"Shiori, run. I'll try to buy you some time," said Ren, dropping his bag.

"Aww thanks. Try not to die painfully."

"Wait, what!? Are you for real!?" Ren asked revolted.

"What? You offered. . ."

"Yeah, but this is the part where you stubbornly say you're not leaving me behind!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," cursed Shiori.

The Jack-O-Knight in the middle dropped his mace to the ground. Pink sparks sprayed from the weapon's head, as it was dragged by the chain.

Ren tried to circle around to reach Ryuji but the knight on the right slashed at the ground, arcing a short wall of flames. Before Shiori could move, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. The gauntlet of another of these Jack-O-Knights.

The knight that surprised Shiori, flung her against the wall. Ren thought she would give a high pitch girly scream, but instead some animalistic yowl of pain came out of her. Shiori slid to the floor, her vision darkening. She could make out Ren shouting something, trying to get to her; a knight grabbed him by the head and thwacked his head against a stone pillar.

Shiori bit the inside of her cheeks, trying to stay conscious. She managed to just raise herself to a shaky stand before her assailant bitch-slapped her to Blackoutsville.

#

Ren woke up with a headache that surpassed that one time he had a hangover - after him and his friends raided his father's liquor bar. What had happened? Oh yeah, he had some nightmare about this weird castle, with Shiori and some guy and they were attacked by these medieval jerks with Jack-O-Lanterns for heads.

Ren rolled out of the cot, expecting to see the attic of Leblanc. He instead found himself in a cell that probably belonged to a castle.

Probably belonged to the castle in his nightmare.

Which probably was not a nightmare.

Ren touched his forehead, feeling dried blood. Ren had anticipated a lot of things for his first day at Shujin, but this was not part of the list. He leaned against the wall, trying to steady his walk with his throbbing headache. His hand stopped against a studded metal plate.

 _Huh?_

Torture manacles were attached to it. No one attached to it, thankfully. Ren also realised that he was alone in this cell. Where were Shiori and Ryuji?

"YAAAAARRRRGH!" came a scream from outside of his cell.

While his senses were rattled by the pain in his head, Ren could make out a crowd jeering. Ren gripped the bars of his cell and tried to survey what was happening outside. At first, Ren assumed his cell was one of those in a torture dungeon, but that was not the case.

This was some sort of medieval in-door coliseum. From Ren's vantage point, he saw that the half-circumference of the coliseum was lined with stories of cells, some of them with prisoners like himself. The other half had the seating grandstand of pixies, jack-o-lanterns and even some two-horned black unicorns. Bicorns? It was like a Scottish Court of Faeries, with these creatures in all their manner of types as maidens, knights and other tropes of the medieval.

The crowd leered as blood spilt on the sands. Ren saw what appeared to be _high school students_ in their P.E uniforms. One of the students, a blue-haired boy, got kicked by one of the Jack-O-Knights. The crowd roared with a cheer, at the one-sided blood entertainment.

"Shit," Ren said to himself.

What kind of sick show was this?

" _These ones have been expended_. _Take them away,_ " said a voice.

Ren looked back to the grandstand side. He missed a special box seat which seemed to have a throne chair. Although, there was no one sitting in it. There were two people standing next to it.

One was a tall figure in red chrome-like armour, with a furred cape; the reflections of the students getting abused, animated his large chest-plate. Two yellow eyes glowed from his visor vent. A rivulet of sweat trailed down Ren's neck. Why did it feel that those eyes were observing him, all the way from there?

The person who spoke was the other guy. A handsome blue-eyed blond haired, wearing a rich purple coat and white frock. Something about him screamed, _Thy is a rich fuckboy, kisseth mine own derriere._

 _#_

Shiori rummaged through her bag, trying to find something that would cut through these bars.

The corner of her lower lip had just stopped bleeding from the blow she received earlier. Shiori did not know where the other two were, but her first focus was getting out of this cell.

" _These ones have been expended_. _Take them away._ "

 _Hahaha at this point I'd take Monday school day over this Roman pastime_ , thought Shiori.

She found the two pairs of handcuffs in her bag, but they didn't have any sharp edges which could grind and cut against the bars. Shiori could forget about flinging her maths textbook at these creatures nor she had any idea of how tampons could be weaponised. Shiori opened her pencil case and retrieved a fountain pen.

" _Bring in the new intruders to the battle arena_."

"Psst, hey! Choker-neck. That's us they're bringing in there," said one of the walls of Shiori's cell.

Shiori jolted.

"Over here! There's a hole in-between our cells."

A blue eye peeked at her.

"Who are you?" asked Shiori.

"I'm Morgana, master infiltrator and thief."

"Master huh? How'd you get captured?" Shiori asked sceptical.

Outside, Jack-O-Knights approached their cells to bring them down to the blood-soaked sand in the arena.

"Well, that was. . .carelessness on my part. But listen, if you help me out, I can get you out of here," said Morgana.

The crowd roared. Shiori looked down at the arena and saw Ren and Ryuji were just thrown into it. Uh-oh.

"How can I trust you?" asked Shiori.

"What other options do you have right now?"

Shiori hesitated. Morgana had a point. The Jack-O-Knights were almost here.

"What's your plan?"

"Pretty simple. That pen you deposited in your bra earlier, I'll need you to use that to distract the guards. They'll be more focused on me because they know I have a Persona-"

"A what?"

"Seriously? Okay, let's just leave it at - . . .I can fight. You distract them by stabbing one of them with the pen, I'll take them out when they lose their focus and then you follow me. I know the escape route from here," said Morgana.

". . ."

Ren and Ryuji were still down there, thought Shiori.

"You better make your decision now. They're almost here," warned Morgana.

"We save my friends from down there with this plan," said Shiori.

"What? No way, we won't be able to make it out from down there. There's more guards-"

"That's my condition. What other options _do you_ have?" asked Shiori.

Shiori knew Morgana was right, and part of her was screaming at herself to roll with the original plan. But for some reason, she did not want to leave Ren down there, even if Shiori was confronted with the extremity of her possibly dying in this coliseum.

Morgana did not reply because the Jack-O-Knights were here. One of them unlocked Shiori's cell and yanked her out. The other two opened Morgana's cell. With the claim of being good at fighting these things, Shiori was expecting some hulking warrior figure.

It turned out to be a cat.

The small guy in a yellow scarf barely reached the height of her knees. This was supposed to be their salvation? They were so screwed.

Morgana made eye-contact with her, trying to signal that she should distract them now. Shiori refused. They were led down to the coliseum arena. On their way, Shiori saw students in Shujin's P.E uniform, locked up in the cells. An atmosphere of defeat and abuse permeated from their prisons, as they curled up or hugged their knees crying. What in the world was this place?

#

Ryuji spat out the sand when he was chucked into the arena. Beside him, Ren was brushing off red sand from his uniform. Ren held out a hand to Ryuji, who took it, being careful to push himself up with his good leg.

"Thanks," said Ryuji.

"On a scale of one to fucked, how bad do we have it right now?" asked Ren.

"Man, I can't make up my mind if I'm more bewildered or scared right now," said Ryuji.

The arena's only exit/entrance opened up; entered Shiori and a strange black cat with a yellow scarf.

"I told you, we should have escaped up there," complained the cat.

"Did that thing just talk?!" Ryuji asked.

"I'm not a thing, I'm a person!" yowled the cat.

"This is Morgana. Our sliver of hope," said Shiori.

At Ren's quizzical look, Shiori added, "We've got this dumb plan where I'll wield my Excalibur fountain pen to do the ol' distract, hit and run you seen in those movies."

"That's going to work?" asked Ryuji.

"Keywords: Dumb. Plan," said Shiori.

Ren shrugged. Like Ryuji, Ren also felt a mix of emotions. His chest carried a strange sensation, like there was a cold fire burning inside of him, bursting to get out. Another part of Ren felt relieved at the thought of dying. After everything he had been through since that night, maybe this was an escape from the struggling against society and the way he was being treated. Ms. Kawakami would probably be relieved to not see his burdensome self, show up to school.

A lump formed at Ren's throat. Was that truly his feelings? No goodbyes to his parents? Not hearing Kyoko's voice one more time?

 _It would seem you are not ready to give up_ , echoed a male voice. Who was that? Ren wondered. Ryuji had not reacted so he did not hear it. Shiori's arms were shaking and she was trying to hide it. The cat stood at a ready stance, looking tense.

"Well well well. I was told there were intruders in the castle, but I did not think it would be you, Sakamoto. Interesting accomplices too. I did not take you to be one for associating with trouble-makers, Shiori," came a voice from the box seat.

The crowd went quiet, like a heavy rain of noise suddenly turned off with a tap.

A man wearing a crown and red cloak emerged to the edge of the box seat, standing in-between the other two denizens. Ren recognised him. It was the guy who gave Ann Takamaki a ride this morning.

"Kamoshida," Ryuji said in an astonished tone.

"That's King Kamoshida to you, scum," said Shadow Kamoshida.

Shadow Kamoshida made a gesture and the box seat began to lower towards them with some contraption whirring. Jack-O-Knights entered the arena, imposing on the four prisoners. Shiori counted ten of them when she discreetly slipped the pen out of her bosom and hid it in her sleeve. She hoped Morgana was tougher than he looked.

"You guys know him?" asked Morgana.

"Too well," said Ryuji. Words that dripped with molten hate.

"Ryuji, something tells me appearances aren't what they seem here," murmured Shiori.

"What do you mean?" asked Ryuji.

"I see you've grown a lot Shiori, since last year. In all the right places," said Shadow Kamoshida, running his yellow eyes up and down her figure.

This guy is mentally undressing Shiori and imagining all sorts of things, realised Ren. Also, what kind of king walked around with just a cloak and a boxer with heart patterns?

"It's an honour to meet you, King Motherfucker," said Shiori, doing a mock curtsy.

There were appalled gasps and exclamations of shock from the audience.

Ren heard that voice again. It started off with a chuckle.

 _It would seem Yoshitsune has chosen a fiery one. Yet you're the ignition to the awakenings, Trickster. If we fail to sign a contract, he won't surface_ , said the voice.

Trickster. That's what Igor called him.

 _Who are you?_ asked Ren.

The cold fire sensation in Ren's chest grew 'hotter'.

Shadow Kamoshida's face had briefly contorted at Shiori's slight. Then he grinned.

"Heh. We'll see if you've still got that spunk once I've broken you and have you pinned on my throne for a hard fuck," leered Shadow Kamoshida.

"You bastard, this isn't funny!" shouted Ryuji.

Shadow Kamoshida struck Ryuji down. When Ren tried to help, two Jack-O-Knights restrained him. Morgana's eyes were darting in-between the red knight next to Shadow Kamoshida, and Shiori. Shadow Kamoshida stomped on one of Ryuji's legs.

The scream that tore out of Ryuji was beyond the other victims previously.

"Stop it, you're hurting him!" growled Ren.

"Stay out of this, peasant! I'll deal with you once I'm done with this one," said Shadow Kamoshida.

One of the Jack-O-Knights picked up Ryuji's trembling profile. Ren saw his face was tear-streaked.

"I thought I taught you a good lesson when I broke that leg of yours, but it seems that was not enough to quell your insolence," seethed Shadow Kamoshida.

 _Crack_.

"Gah!"

Ren and Morgana winced. The blow to Ryuji's chest was so strong, a rib cracked.

"That's not necessary," said Shiori.

"Shut up, bitch! I'll do as I please with this-"

"No. I meant about you and me. If you want my body you can have it, sensei," said Shiori.

Shiori walked slowly towards Shadow Kamoshida, who raised a hand, halting the other Jack-O-Knights from restraining her.

Shiori continued speaking, "You and I both understand each other, sensei. True pleasure is what a man does with power. It is an absolute, and having me however you want is power."

Shadow Kamoshida was slack-jawed.

Shiori's voice turned husky - she was right in front of Shadow Kamoshida right now.

"How about right here? Did you know sensei? Having a girl undress for you is the hottest thing ever-"

Shiori was fast. The red knight was faster. Shiori's hand whirled to bury the pen into Shadow Kamoshida's eye and pole it at his brain. The red knight was suddenly in-between Shiori and his king, his fur cloak billowing. Shiori's hand was caught in his gauntlet.

Everything kicked into a frenzy.

Behind Ren, Morgana shouted, " _Persona!_ "

A whirlwind of gust emitted from Morgana, staggering everyone except the red knight. Ren saw a tall black figure with a long rapier, stand at command, behind Morgana.

"Zorro! With me!" shouted Morgana, who swung a scimitar that had materialised out of nowhere. A blade of wind slashed at the guards holding Ren. Morgana leapt at the other guards, the tiny thing in a wildcat flurry.

"Make sure they're all executed, Eligor!" screamed Shadow Kamoshida, clutching a small cut at his cheekbone; Shiori did manage to make partial contact.

Eligor, the red knight, grabbed Shiori by the throat, raising her up. In his other hand, a lance materialised.

Time became slow for Ren.

 _Are you going to stand by there and do nothing? Forsake your friend behind?_

 _The last time I was in this situation. . ._ thought Ren.

 _A painful end awaits her at your inaction. Was your previous decision a mistake?_

For the umpteenth time, Ren thought about that night that changed everything for him. Someone asked Ren to help. He helped. He paid a terrible price. Was it a mistake? Was it. . .a mistake to do good and be seen as a villain. . .

Ren laughed. The irony.

Mistake? No. It was not. But that man who ruined his life made a mistake against him. One that Ren was going to pay back tenfold in revenge.

 _If society is so insistent on vilifying me, then I might as well play along and be a little bit nasty_ ¸ said Ren.

 _Very good. I have heeded your choice._

 _Vow to me._

 _I am thou. Thou art I._

 _Thou who art willing to perform sacrilegious acts,_

 _For acts of thine vengeance_

 _For the sins of fallen angels._

 _Call my name!_

#

Morgana found himself cornered. He had managed to take out two out of the ten but the other seven were closing in on him.

 _Boom._

The walls trembled. Fissures of cracks crept on the arena walls. The source of the disturbance had come from Ren who had one of the Jack-O-Knight's pinned against the wall. Was that one of Shiori's friends on fire? The Jack-O-Knight struggled, swinging its sword and spewing its own fire magic at Ren.

White and blue flames completely engulfed Ren and the Jack-O-Knight (whose kicking in the air had become feeble). A face formed in the flames and laughed, drowning the noise from the chaos and audience screams.

#

Eligor paused from impaling Shiori. He recognised what was happening. That was Arsene's signature arrival into the mortal planes. That meant a certain god made a contract with that boy, making him the new Trickster. Those champions usually had allies which meant. . .

Eligor looked back at Shiori and saw in her eyes, a man who once walked the battlefields of Japan. This powerful samurai immortalised as a Persona when he committed seppuku.

Yoshitsune's quiet assurance came at Shiori in her moment of seeing dark spots, as she was asphyxiated by Eligor.

 _Open your eyes, dear child._

By a miracle, Shiori's vision became clear.

 _Trickster has pledged his soul._

 _By the condition of thy bond with Trickster,_

 _Swear fealty,_

 _I am thou. Thou art I._

 _Thou who art willing to protect the Divine._

 _For acts of thine redemption._

 _For thy capacity to loveth._

 _Call my name._

Shiori went limp. Eligor wondered if her body gave out from trying to accept a powerful persona. There were precedent examples.

Outside the castle, a storm rumbled. Eligor's eyes glowed brighter. No. The girl was still alive. Yoshitsune was coming.

Eligor primed his lance to discharge an inferno upon contact. He shoved his lance at Shiori.

" _Arsene!_ "

Ren caught the lance, but only after it tore through his palm and edged by a breadth of a finger at Shiori's bosom, where her heart was. His attire had changed - a birdlike domino mask at his face, a dark tailcoat over a tall collared waistcoat, complemented by a frisky gentleman's legging. Like a gentleman thief.

White and blue lightning crackled from Shiori's body in her transformation. Eligor did not let her go despite that. The inferno primer was loaded.

"Fool," Eligor said to Ren.

The lance glowed red, about to release the inferno explosion.

Ren raised his left free hand in a claw-like manner, at Eligor.

"Am I?" said Ren, smirky.

Shiori raised her right hand to Eligor.

Lightning tore through the roof and struck Shiori. Yoshitsune's lightning powers activated with Arsene's fire.

Ren reversed the inferno back at Eligor from his left hand, in a concentrated blast. Shiori - who was still suspended, charged lightning from her right hand at Eligor. Both forces of nature struck the Duke of Hell and killed him so hard, that all the sixty legions of spirits he commanded back in Hell felt it in their booty.

Eligor's corpse was blasted away, his armour ripping and tearing up. When he made a violent impact against the throne chair, there was not much left of the demon lord. The other Jack-O-Knights, upon seeing the destructive damage inflicted on their powerful superior, fled the arena. Shadow Kamoshida and the others were nowhere in sight.

Ren's glove smoked from the inferno blast. The Wild Card ability allowed him to consume the Jack-O-Knight and its fire affinity.

"Nice mask," said Shiori.

Ren winced, extricating the lance from his hand. Ren turned to her.

Shiori's attire had also changed. Her face had a black and white skull make-up, with red pupils in-match to Yoshitsune's eyes. Her outfit reminded Ren of Paine from _Final Fantasy X-2_ , except the folded top came with a cowl.

"That was amazing you guys. But we don't have time to chit chat. They're probably sending an army here as reinforcements. Hop in and I'll show you the route out," said Morgana.

The cat turned into a van. Ren blinked.

"Did all of this actually just happen?" Ryuji whispered mortified.

During all the ruckus, Ren nearly forgot about him.

Shiori (who like Ren, had seen all sorts of ridiculous things since they showed up to this damn castle) was not going to stop to question this. She helped up Ryuji who was still shaken from the torture he went through earlier and eased him into the cat-van.

Shiori jumped into the driver's seat and said, "Get in loser. We're going to live."

* * *

 **So much for trying to keep a chapter under 4k words ._.**

 **Chapter 3 demonstrates the changes I mentioned in the chapter 1 afterword, about palace traversals and how battles work. I've done my own twist on the 'Wild Card' to make it more efficient serving for this story, and have removed the 'Nul' element efficacy, and replaced it with 'Rep' for all the relevant Personas (who are more like actual characters in my fanfiction, than just Pokemon-ish things).**

 **Kyoko is Ren's ex-girlfriend, from his home town.**

 **I was hoping to reach Ren's introduction to class 2-D in this chapter, but the word count got too buffed. So chapter 4 it is.**


	4. Hawaiian Pizza

**IM: Instant Message app.**

 **_ (underscore) highlights that you're reading a text message.**

* * *

Shiori shifted up the gear.

"Where did you say it was?" asked Ren.

 _Thwack_.

The cat-van made roadkill out of two Bicorns attempting to stop them. Shiori was not letting an inch off the pedal.

"In the compartment box. And hurry, you're spilling blood all over the seat," said Morgana.

Ren found three blue vials. He tossed one to Ryuji in the backseat and unplugged one for himself, by the teeth. Ren dashed the viscous substance on his holed hand; it felt like his pain tolerance was heightened. Did it have to do with the current form Ren had?

Vapour hissed off Ren's hand. The wound closed up. Ren flexed his fingers.

Ryuji leaned in-between the two front seats.

"Where are we dri - look out!" Ryuji pointed.

The cat-van's tyres squealed when Shiori avoided ramming into the merchant stalls on the cobbled road. The subjects of Kamoshida's realm scattered, hiding away into their cottages.

"Is that an exit?" asked Ren.

A giant wooden gate was laid down from a tall archway that had a blur of Tokyo in the distance.

"It is," confirmed Morgana.

Shiori stopped the cat-van. Everyone got off. Morgana turned back into a cat. Ryuji looked at Shiori, to Ren, scratching his head. Ren could not blame him. They were all confused and full of questions. But above of all, relieved they made it out alive.

"Thanks for helping us, Morgana," said Shiori, wanting to get the group's gratitude out before curiosity.

"Heh-he. No problem. The three of you should be back in the real world from here," said Morgana.

When the cat did not motion to leave with them, Ryuji asked, "You're not coming?"

"I was here for a reason. There is an investigation I must complete," said Morgana, turning his back to them.

Ren shrugged.

"All right. We're leaving," said Ren.

Shiori tilted her head at Ren. She liked this take-charge and challenging side of Ren, over the despondent guy from last night. That Ren would not have stopped Eligor like he did today.

* * *

Shiori blinked. They had practically rematerialized in a broad, busy section of the city and no one noticed? Not that Shiori was complaining. At least they had their uniforms and school bags, back with them.

"How long do you think we were in there?" asked Ren, pushing up his glasses.

"Couldn't have been too long," said Ryuji.

"Hey! Are you kids skipping school?"

Oh shit.

Shiori saw two policemen approach them. They turned a nasty vindicating eye over Ren and Ryuji, and softened at Shiori. Shiori had that effect on people. Good girl exterior. Made her thot power level over 9000.

"No! We were in this castle-" began Ryuji.

"A castle? Are you kids doing drugs? Alright, turn over your bags," said one of the officers.

Ren and Shiori cursed under their breath.

"No – no officer. It's actually my fault. I had a severe psychosis episode with an anxiety attack. These two gentlemen helped me to a clinic which was a bit far away. You can call our school to confirm. They know I'm a head case," Shiori said in her most fragile voice.

The officers hesitated. They needed a little more nudging.

Shiori sniffled, looking to the ground. The policemen's faces turned pale. Easy game. The threat of a woman's tears had a strong effect on certain kinds of men.

The other officer cleared his throat.

"Just get going along now," the policeman said gruffly.

Ren started walking. In Ryuji's mind, the blonde hamster that ran on the wheel powering his modest brain, was still trying to catch up to what Shiori just did. Shiori grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him away before he could blurt another stupid thing.

* * *

The trio cautiously approached the entrance of Shujin Academy, like zebras checking for crocodiles in the river to drink from. The biggest crocodile, the school counsellor, was standing there with his arms folded. Ryuji inwardly winced under his glare. It was a familiar look to someone like him.

"Do you three realise how late you are?" asked the councillor.

There was a hint of uncertainty at the end of his sentence when he recognised Shiori among the three.

Ren checked his phone for the time and nearly dropped it in surprise. They were four periods late and lunch was about to be over.

A mega-shark joined the crocodile. The students tensed up, seeing Kamoshida.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" asked Kamoshida.

Shiori narrowed her eyes at Kamoshida. There was a dissonance with the person in front of them here and the 'King Kamoshida' they saw in that castle.

" _You!_ " gasped Ryuji.

Barely an hour ago, someone who looked like Kamoshida broke Ryuji's rib. Shiori felt sympathy for Ryuji's outburst, despite her streetwise sense to be quiet about the castle.

"You seem so carefree, Sakamoto. Being this late to school. It seems contrary to how you were when you showed up for morning track practice," said Kamoshida.

Ren detected an undertone of sneer in Kamoshida's words. After what happened at the castle and now this; Ren decided his first impressions of this teacher.

"Shut up! What happened then-"

"How dare you talk like that to a teacher!" roared the counsellor.

"Now now. It was my fault. I should not have brought that up," said Kamoshida.

"Hmph. Even so, there's not much leeway left for this one. Sakamoto! You're coming with me to my office!" commanded the counsellor.

'Good luck', Shiori mouthed to Ryuji.

That left Ren and Shiori alone with Kamoshida. Shiori's hand twitched, remembering the muscle memory of trying to stab a likeness, with her Pilot Metropolitan Retro Pop fountain pen.

"You. . .are you that new transfer student?" Kamoshida asked Ren.

"Yes," said Ren.

". . .have I seen you from somewhere before?" Kamoshida asked slowly.

"Probably from that time when Shiori and I saw a minor get into your car," said Ren.

There was a frosty pause.

Ren and Kamoshida smiled at each other in perfect understanding of how things were going to be between them, from now.

"Oh yes. Now I remember. Well, I'll overlook this matter for today. You heard the principal's warning yesterday. Any more slip-ups and you'll be in big trouble," warned Kamoshida.

"I'm aware."

The school bell rang. Kamoshida frowned. He wanted to get a word to Shiori too but he had a P.E class to host. Shiori breathed out when Kamoshida left. Sooner or later, Kamoshida was going to speak to her anyway.

"What a prick," said Ren.

"Did you notice the way Ryuji walked? And what Kamoshida did to him at the castle? And just now…" said Shiori.

"Yeah. I did."

They were both wondering the same thing.

Ren remembered he was supposed to meet Kawakami this morning, at the faculty office. Ren sighed. She probably had called his guardian by now. Sojiro was going to eat him alive when he got home.

"Catch you later then. I have to see Kawakami at the faculty office," said Ren.

"Forget it. It's fifth period," said Shiori.

She showed class 2-D's timetable on her phone.

"She's teaching right now. We're heading straight there," said Shiori.

"You're in my class?"

"Seems like it!"

#

"Classes will end after the fifth period today, due to the subway accident," Kawakami said to the class.

She noticed a ripple of murmurs with the students.

"It's _him_."

"You mean the gangster that transferred to our school?"

"Is that Shiori Oshiro?"

"It's Shiori."

"Why are they together?"

 _Knock knock_.

Shiori was by the classroom door, knocking meekly. Behind her was Ren. Kawakami was stunned to see the trouble-kid was together with a model student.

The whispers intensified as Kawakami hurried over to have a quick word with the two.

"Where were you two?" asked Kawakami.

Shiori played the same story she did with the policemen. Kawakami's tired eyes blinked several times.

"All – right. I'll have you two introduce yourselves formally to the class. Ren, because you're new. Shiori, because you're a returning student from a very publicised story at this school. I think it would be a benefit," said Kawakami.

Ren and Shiori nodded.

"Everyone. This is Ren and Shiori. They were at a medical clinic earlier today due to. . .sensitive circumstances, but we expected them at around this time. Would you two like to introduce yourselves?"

The students' eyes reminded Ren of his court hearing. Suspicion, distrust, fear and dislike.

"I'm Ren Amamiya. Nice to meet you all," he said flatly.

"He seems so normal."

"Does he? Maybe it's the glasses."

"Nah. If you look at him in the eyes, I bet he'll hit you."

"Yeah. He was arrested for assault."

And on went the whispers.

Shiori cleared her throat. Everyone went quiet.

"Hi. I'm Shiori Oshiro. Umm. . .I guess everyone is thinking about what happened last year-"

Shiori paused. Everyone's attention was locked to Shiori. Almost everyone. Ann Takamaki's was lasered at Ren. Shiori continued the rehearsed words.

"-and I can admit it was a terrible incident. I'm sure everyone would agree. However, I look forward to getting my life back on track. I. . .I am pleased to be your fellow classmate this year," said Shiori, with a small bow.

The reception was different from Ren's. People whispered in approval and adulation at Shiori. Two girls even clapped.

"Now seatings. There are two free seats at the back there," Kawakami pointed to the back-left corner of the classroom.

Shiori passed Ann and opted for the corner-end seat, upon feeling an aggressive vibe from the girl. Sheesh. What was her problem?

"Lies," Ann softly hissed, when Ren neared the remainder seat, which was located in-between Shiori and Ann's.

 _You can't catch a break, huh_ , Shiori thought.

Ren's eyes briefly flickered to Ann's. He was caught off-guard by the loaded conviction in them. The other students had their own negative connotations, but the looks they gave Ren were cold and impersonal. This girl was making Ren feel like the distance of strangers was not in-between them, a kind of personal proximity that was too sudden, bypassing social and psychological barriers, two strangers should have.

 _How unsettling_ , thought Ren.

Given his usual indifference, there was something threatening about this Ann. He quietly took his seat.

X

The bell rang, signalling the end of the fifth period. Shiori was quickly surrounded by students, peppering her with questions. Ren zipped his bag and left the classroom. Ryuji was waiting outside.

"Where's Shiori?" he asked Ren.

Ren nodded towards the knit of students. Without a care, Ryuji walked into the classroom and loudly interrupted Shiori's fan club. Angry squeals and indignant exclamations were hurled at Ryuji, who ignored them.

A student bumped into Ren from behind. It was a blue-haired boy, who stumbled and nearly fell to his feet. Ren saw he had light bruises and a band-aid under his eye.

"My apologies. I did not see you," said Ren.

The blue-haired boy avoided Ren's eyes. He hurried away from Ren.

"By the way, you should head straight home. Sakura-san sounded pretty angry on the phone," said Kawakami.

 _I can only imagine_ , thought Ren.

"Also, people are already talking about your. . .past. I don't know how they found this out but I was not the one who told them. And you're already acquainted with that Sakamoto," said Kawakami.

" _That_ Sakamoto? What's the context?" asked Ren.

Kawakami sighed.

"Look, stay away from that kid, all right? He's nothing but trouble. Not that he was always like that. He used to be the school's star athlete for track. . ." said Kawakami.

". . ."

Ryuji exited classroom.

"Meet me up the rooftop," Ryuji said to Ren, then left.

"That's what I'm talking about. You were with Shiori this morning, right? Hang with her. She's a good example to follow," said Kawakami.

Ren pushed up his glasses, watching his teacher leave. Shiori joined him.

"Hey, wanna smoke crack at the school rooftop?" Shiori asked nonchalantly.

Ren quirked his mouth at her.

"Ryuji asked you too?" asked Ren.

"Yes. I think he wants to talk about what happened."

The door to the school rooftop had a 'Off-Limits' sign. Shiori swung the door open without pausing at it.

Ryuji was sitting on a school desk, looking down. The angled sun cast the meshed shadow of the fence on his profile. The squawks of seagulls from a distant harbour reached them at the rooftop.

"Hey," said Ren.

Ryuji broke out of his thoughts. He was relieved to see both Shiori and Ren show up. What happened this morning, Ryuji did not understand what it was, but he wanted answers. No way he could figure this out on his own.

"I'm guessing this is about what happened today?" asked Ren.

"Yeah," said Ryuji.

Shiori gripped the meshed fence, eyeing the leaving students in their automated lives. At least, that's how she dismissed most people. Shiori 180-ed, her back against the fence, arms stretched and clasping the fence.

"Your backstory has broken out," said Shiori.

Ren shrugged, like whatever.

"I heard the rumours too. Someone posted it on a forum last night and by lunchtime today, almost half the students had details in their IMs. Whoever was behind this, is good at social media," said Ryuji.

"Who could have done it? The only people who knew were the principal, the staff. . . _oh_ ," realised Shiori.

"What?" said Ren.

"Yeah, I bet it was Kamoshida. He must have had a student from the volleyball team leak this. . .is it true you have tattoos and you were arrested for beating up someone?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori averted her eyes to the sky.

"No. . .I don't have any tatts. As for my arrest. . .yes, the official record is that I assaulted a man. 'Beating up' might be an overstatement, however," snorted Ren.

"Wow. I mean, looking at you, I never would have guessed it," said Ryuji.

"Me neither," laughed Shiori.

"Now this morning. The castle, those knights, the coliseum, that Kamoshida, you guys remember all that, right?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori and Ren nodded.

"And there were those costumes you guys had. Those powers and that talking cat, which turned into a van! How did we end up there?" asked Ryuji.

"I honestly don't know. There are a few absolutes we can safely draw right now," said Shiori.

"They would be?" asked Ren.

"One; none of us are crazy. Had this happened to only one person, or had we seen different things, this could have been pinpointed to hallucinogens or someone being out of their mind. Yet the sequence of events is just as we did remember it, during our waking moments in this. . .this castle. Two; Ryuji, you brought up that cat which could not only talk, but fight and turn into a van. Among the other things we witnessed, Morgana breaks the laws of physics and biology in our natural world. In other words, this other place we were at, must be some sort of alternate or modified reality," said Shiori.

"Kamoshida gave no indication this morning, of being part of the blood sport in the coliseum. Almost as if he was not there," said Ren.

"Then that person we saw in the coliseum may possibly not be the one we know here," said Shiori.

Ryuji frowned, scratching his head.

"This is all so confusing. How can it not be him, yet look like him? I know things were. . .it was like they were amplified. . .like it was symbolic you know? Of how Kamoshida is. You guys get what I'm trying to say?" asked Ryuji.

Ren nodded.

"That coliseum. He was like. . .the boss of the place. Over here, he's the school volleyball coach and a P.E teacher. Maybe. . .maybe it's linked to the school gymnasium?" suggested Shiori.

The meshed fence rustled at the strong breeze. The distant chatter of students leaving Shujin was fading.

"A coliseum being linked to a gymnasium? But why? One is where people get hurt and die, the other is meant for sports and training," said Ren.

Ryuji shivered, not knowing if it was because of the wind or the déjà vu he was getting about the whole thing. Those punished students in the castle were wearing Shujin Academy uniforms. It reminded him of the harsh training regiments Kamoshida stressed the track team under, in order to break them and bring his volleyball team to the limelight.

"That is conjecture on our side. We don't have any definitive proof of what that castle truly is," said Shiori.

"Then we go back to investigate," blurted Ryuji.

Ren's eyelid twitched.

"Go back? Ha. Hahaha. Yeah, good one, Ryuji," said Ren.

Shiori folded her arms.

"Assuming we figure out how we got there in the first place; how do you fancy our mortality rate while we're playing Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys?" asked Shiori.

"Both you and Ren had those powers, right? Aren't you both curious about what happened to yourselves back there?"

It was true. Ren and Shiori were in wonder about their transformations. Ren himself had a better inkling to why it probably happened. That 'dream'. Igor. The strange man mentioned the Thief of Twilight, which happened to be Arsene.

Thinking of Arsene made Ren's heart feel a phantom effect of the cold fire he experienced in the castle. Ren noticed the back of Shiori's ash-pallor neck had goosebumps. Was she thinking about that Yoshitsune?

Ryuji's phone beeped. It was his mum, asking him to pick up something on his way home.

"Oh yeah, let's exchange emails. We'll discuss tonight our plan to get back there. You guys are okay with that, right?" asked Ryuji.

Their phones beeped in the contact exchange. Ren hesitated. Shiori was watching him. She wanted him to decide this.

"Fine. But – if it gets too risky, we pull out at my say-so," said Ren.

Ryuji grinned.

"Aww yeah! I knew you'd come around! Something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, this year. Y'all don't be a stranger, alright?" said Ryuji.

Ryuji wasn't half-bad, Shiori decided.

* * *

 _Yogen-jaya_.

Ren was unlacing his shoe when Sojiro entered his room.

"I got a call from your teacher saying you were four periods late," stated Sojiro.

Sojiro seemed calm about the whole thing, Ren decided. Why? He hesitated. How could he tell Sojiro about the crazy castle?

"Don't worry about it. The Oshiros gave me a phone call just now, apologising and thanking me about the kid who helped their granddaughter today. You still can't shake off that instinct that got you in trouble in the first place, huh?" said Sojiro.

Ren realised Shiori thought ahead and covered for him; guessing the precarious circumstances a probationer like him had, under Sojiro's roof.

"You know them?" asked Ren.

"Yeah. They've been running the cinema here for fifteen years. Lovely couple. I suppose it's not a bad thing that you helped their family. Even if you were late to school. Just. . .try not to be late again. I could give you leeway for this sort of reason multiple times, but not the school," said Sojiro.

"Noted."

#

Shiori rubbed her hands at the warm Hawaiian pizza on the roller tray. She checked the Bluetooth app on her phone, which was linked to the theatre's projector. _Lesson of the Evil_ was ready to be played. Bottle of water, check. Best seat in the house, check. No Hawaiian pizza heretics around, check.

Shiori's Nokia beeped. It was Ren.

_Ren: Thanks_

Shiori smiled. She slid back against her seat, her knee socked legs arching upwards.

_Shiori: No problem :P _

_Shiori: What are you up to?_

_Ren: Cleaning my room. This attic is something_

Shiori rapidly typed:

_Shiori: Attic?_

_Ren: My bedroom. Yeah I know, it's weird. My bedroom is the attic _

There was an IM-pause.

_Shiori: Whaaaaaat? Are you lying to me?! _

_Ren: …I'm not ಠ_ಠ _

Shiori waited for a minute, for Ren to say he was joking and that he knew about her bedroom being an attic. He did not.

_Shiori: I don't believe you _

_Ren: Uhh..ok lol _

_Shiori: You better invite me to your room someday, so I can bust this prank _

_Ren: Prank? _

_Shiori: You. Know. What. I. Mean. _

_Ren: . . . _

_Ren: I don't think I do_

_Ren: Btw, you ok? _

_Shiori: ? _

_Ren: The way that other 'Kamoshida' was being aggressive to you. The things he said _

IM-pause.

_Shiori: I'm fine 😊 Guys his type aren't the first I've dealt with before _

_Shiori: Not. That I approve of how they are _

_Ren: I want to say I'm relieved but… _

_Shiori: I know how you feel. Don't worry a butt it_

_Shiori: about*_

_Shiori: butt…wtf_

_Ren: lmao_

The pizza was losing its warmth.

_Shiori: Tch. Anyway, goodnight :D _

_Ren: Night _

#

After cleaning, Ren put everything away and switched off the light. His phone's screen lit up when he connected it to the charger. The dim illumination created upward shadows on his visage.

Ren opened the Firefox app, which loaded up the last web page he visited. It was a Wikipedia page of a Japanese politician. Ren enlarged the photo, his breathing getting a bit heavy.

"Arsene. . ." Ren said softly.

The cold fire sensation mixed with his jet-fuel hatred for the politician. 'Masayoshi Shido' is the politician's name.

" _For acts of thine vengeance_ , you said to me. Even if I bring this country to its knees, I will - take away everything this man cherishes.

* * *

 **Goro and Hifumi will likely make their debut in chapter 5. I'm starting to better understand the story as my quill wills to bleed.**

 **See you at chapter 5.**


	5. Mistress in a Cadillac

.

A white Cadillac CTS was parked by the red bridge. An American car in Japan was not a common sight to prop against Kyoto's signature traditional castles, foliage, lanterns and the bluebonnet evening sky. Perhaps what was even more uncommon was the young man in the car, who had been playing a game of kingmaker in Japan.

Goro Akechi intently watched the newscast on the tablet, held by the foreign woman sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

" _A recap to the disaster earlier today. A train derailed at one of Tokyo's subways after it failed to de-accelerate from top speed, amounting to casualties and injuries north of fifty. This latest accident created another string of commute congestion and delays, affecting the daily lives of citizens and the Japanese stock market. . ."_ said the anchorwoman.

"You did good. The current government will face anger from the public, expecting politicians to work nothing short of miracles. Despite these events being out of their control," said Ellison.

"Is that what _he_ thinks?" asked Goro.

A hand cupped Goro by the face, making him tear his gaze from the tablet. Goro did not even blink when finding his face close enough to distinguish every eyelash on Ellison.

"He does. He approves of this, very much," whispered Ellison.

A dark waterfall of her hair obscured both their faces from the driver's seat direction, putting them in a small world in this luxury V6.

Goro knew Tiffany Ellison was an occurring archetype in circles of power, whether it was blowing the occasional CTO to get that 50-million dollar IT contract in some corporation, to organising the travel diary of a celebrated movie director, or in this instance, being a 'secretary' to Masayoshi Shido and meeting with people he should not be seen in public with. Especially those who were committing socio-economic espionage and sabotage. Goro knew she was somewhat new on Shido's trusted staff. He sometimes wondered what went on in this tricenarian woman's head and if she was self-aware of her position in this cynical world of planned civilian deaths, power and twisted politicians. There was also the fact that he had been fucking her for a month now.

 _More like, she's been fucking me_ , mused Goro.

Not that Goro was complaining despite having a mutually exclusive arrangement with his girlfriend. Ellison was petite attractive, intellectually tickling in pillow talks and experienced. The infidelity also served as a means to Goro's end-game in all this.

Ellison traced the contours of Goro's upper-lip. A red-polished thumb painted over his lower-lip. Her other hand ran fingers through his brown hair. This started off gentle but became violent. Ellison clenched Goro's hair and tugged it. Goro found himself pushed against the seat. Ellison gave him a biting kiss which made him gasp.

"I have to go. I only came to Kyoto-" began Goro.

"Quiet," she admonished.

Ellison pulled off her panties and stuffed it in Goro's mouth to muffle his pants. She unzipped his jeans.

#

Two bodyguards stood at attention outside the Cadillac. They gave each other a knowing look when they heard the car's shock absorbers getting to work. One of them was a gearhead; he looked back at the Cadillac's rocking, more impressed by the engineering put into the suspensions rather than what was happening inside the vehicle.

#

Ten minutes later the Cadillac drove off, leaving Goro who was barely given time to put on his jacket before he got out. He opened his phone's selfie camera and smoothed down his hair. Aside from a bruise at his clavicle, it did not look like he was just ravished by a dominatrix. Goro sniffed his collar. Ellison's perfume was still on him.

Goro stopped by an incense shop on the way and brought a pack of scent sticks. En route to the shogi tournament, he stopped by a temple and lit all twelve sticks in front of the baffled priest, pretending to pray.

Goro knew he was late upon arrival. Hifumi's match had much fewer pieces on the board. The audience was quiet and studious. Even the press, who were eager to interview the beauty shogi player, were respectfully quiet. Goro took a seat by the corner. Judging Hifumi's expression, he could tell she was going to win this. She easily got energetic when playing shogi, unlike her opponent who seemed very still and poker-faced.

 _Clack!_

Hifumi snapped a piece on the board, triumphantly. Her opponent lowered his head. The match coordinator declared Hifumi a winner. A polite applause rippled from the crowd. Goro's phone vibrated. It was a message from Sae-san.

_Sae: You're not picking up my calls _

_Goro: Device is on silent profile. What is this about…? _

_Sae: The SIU is investigating the mental breakdowns. After today's incident…I thought I'd get an external consultation _

If you knew half of it, Goro thought with mirth.

_Goro: I'm in Kyoto for two days. Got a talk-show interview. Perhaps you will shout me sushi when I get back for this consultation? ^.^ _

_Sae: You're paying your own _

_Goro: **._.** _

_Goro: Very well. I'll stop by the SIU when I'm back _

Goro looked up from his phone and saw Hifumi was being congratulated and interviewed on camera. He selected 'Hifumi Togo' from the IM conversation list. The message history from yesterday read:

_Hifumi: That's a coincidence_

_Goro: I planned this ahead a month ago_

_Goro: There were multiple interview offers. I asked the TV station here to have it the day after your match _

_Hifumi: Aww._

_Hifumi: . . . _

_Goro: Something wrong?_

_Hifumi: Nothing truly consequential. _

_Goro: If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. :-] _

_Goro: I'll start killing random people in the metaverse if you don't :-] _

_Goro: So no pressure :-] _

_Hifumi: lol (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ _

_Hifumi: Even in a psychopathic way, you can be quite sweet _

_Hifumi: I'll tell you when we meet_

Goro typed a new message.

_Goro: I'll be waiting outside, by the park. Don't rush with the press for me_

Goro exited the building and sat on a bench. He could see his breath in the chilly evening. Spring was usually warm times but tonight was one of those oddities. Goro thought about his meeting with Ellison. It had been a little over a month since he last saw Shido. Goro was summoned to the politician's office, for a briefing on their roadmap of the politician and his party taking majority power in parliament. Which meant Shido was going to become the Prime Minister, at the end of the year.

Goro felt his wrists hurt. It was one of those strange things his body did when he was in a hurting emotional frequency. Not that Goro was surprised. Shido always had that effect on him, given the forgotten history between them. Goro had been very careful not to let Shido find out who he really was. . .or how he planned to shatter the man's world in his moment of 'victory'. Sure, Japan would suffer from the collateral damage with how Goro planned to do it. But this country deserved little sympathy from him.

"Why so serious?"

Goro looked up. Hifumi leaned in and pecked a kiss.

"Hey there," said Goro.

Hifumi sidled next to him. She clasped his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. For a few minutes, they sat sharing a comfortable silence. This was one of those things Goro liked about Hifumi. She was not like those chatty airhead girls from his fan club, always wanting to fill every minute with trivial verbiage.

Goro closed his eyes, feeling the familiar tickling behind his ear, from the red clover accessory Hifumi wore on her hair. He could imagine her green eyes blinking slowly next to him, drunk in love.

Did he love Hifumi? Goro sometimes wondered. They had been dating a little over a year now. He met the shogi player when he gave one of his first speeches at Kosei High School. It was a time when his status as an ace detective was gaining respect from academic circles and pop culture fame.

"You smell weird. But in a nice kind of way," said Hifumi.

Goro opened his eyes. His voice did not skip a beat.

"I stopped by a Shinto shrine on the way," said Goro.

"Hmm. . .I've yet to visit those around here. Bummer I have to leave tomorrow. Kyoto is nice at this time of the year. And you're here," sighed Hifumi.

"I'm sure this won't be the only time you will participate outside of Tokyo. Maybe next time, we'll both plan properly in advance."

"Ha. I wonder if that's possible now," said Hifumi.

"Say what?" asked Goro.

He turned towards her. Those dark green eyes looked up at him. Hifumi stroked his hair.

"Mum wants me to platform off this fame I've got as a prodigy shogi player, into a modelling career. Possibly acting too," she said softly.

Goro was astonished.

"And give up shogi?"

Hifumi nodded.

"What did your dad say?"

"You know how he is. Being sick has made him softer and non-confrontational. Mum is pretty much the boss of the house."

"Have you tried talking to her? Imploring her? I know you love shogi."

A coagulation of misty breath had clouded around their heads. It lazily trailed up into fadeaways.

"I did. She doesn't hear my voice when I try to tell her. It's like she's obsessed, Goro. Twisted into channelling into me the regrets she had for the opportunities she lost. As if me living out her lost dream, will fix her woes," said Hifumi.

". . ."

More silence. But a different feel from the one earlier. Goro knew what she was thinking; what she was going to say.

"Let's go to the metaverse. We'll change her heart," said Hifumi.

"Hifumi. . ."

"Goro, you're already doing more extreme things for Shido. I saw the news today. How is this worse than that?"

Goro stood up and paced in front of the bench. He avoided her accusing eyes. It's a good thing there was no one around to see the following drama.

"Well? Where is the consistent reasoning?" she demanded.

"You know what he's done to me, Hifumi! How he makes me feel! You think I don't realise it myself, how I've become this hypocrite who believes the law is for fools. For amateurs. It's not like a shogi board where I'm a piece bound by rules. I see you, your beautiful mind. I see my conviction that society should be allowed the free will to choose sin and virtue. It's a defining part of being human. But the moment I think about Shido, everything goes out the window and all I can think of is destroying my father!" Goro ended his sentence in a growl.

Goro realised he was breathing heavily. His hands shook from the wrist pain. He tried to steady them but failed. Hifumi reached out and stilled them.

"You don't have to hurt yourself like this. If you would fully surrender yourself to me. . ." she said.

This was not the first time they had this conversation. Goro would torture himself. Hifumi would get emotional, wanting to 'save him'. Then the scary proposition of fully opening himself up to her – emotionally in all his being, would be out in the open.

Goro hung his head. He could not give that power to someone. Not again. No matter what capacity Hifumi would show in caring for him, or how she could be trusted, he would impulsively withdraw.

"I just. . .don't want you to become even a fraction of the monster Loki loves. I gave you the powers of a metaverse user because we're intimate. It would be a mistake if the gift ruined you," Goro said quietly.

Hifumi's arms closed around him.

"It would never. And Goro, you mustn't shun that part of you. Monster or not, I love every bit of you. It's why I will support you in your revenge, no matter what it takes," she whispered fiercely to him.

She tip-toed up to kiss him. Goro parted his lips.

They locked longingly. Bodies pressed hard against each other, as if hungry to be touched. Goro slowly slid his arms down Hifumi's back, down to her taut ass, which he grabbed and squeezed. Hifumi jumped on him, wrapping her legs around him. Hifumi gasped in his mouth when his thumb went under her sweater and top, and whirled slow circles at the base of her back.

They both broke off gasping. Goro gently lowered Hifumi, who looked around embarrassed, checking if anybody had seen them. The street was empty. Goro cleared his throat, feeling a bit abashed himself. Hifumi smiled at this side of him.

"C'mon. I'll walk you to the inn. Your mum is probably waiting."

"Thanks."

They walked back holding hands.

When they arrived at the inn's entrance, Goro said, "Look. Give it another go with your mum. I also don't want you to stop doing shogi because it's what you love, and I know your old man wants you to continue. If it still doesn't work out. . .we can discuss 'changing her heart', when I return from Kyoto."

"You mean, you're not completely opposed to it?"

Goro hesitated.

"I don't like it. Changing hearts in the metaverse makes us no different from dictators who took away freedom from their people, or a tyrant that rapes a woman of her mind and body. I know you want my permission on this Hifumi, but this is your future, your mother. You should be the one to decide in the end."

* * *

Ren woke up before his alarm went off. IM beeps were coming from his phone. Bleary blinks drew the conversation into focus.

~~ _You have been added to a chat group_ ~~

_Ryuji: Maaan. Sorry for not texting last night._

_Ryuji: (it's me, Ryuji btw)_

_Ryuji: I fell asleep by accident, having some weird dreams and now I feel weird._

_Ryuji: I guess we can discuss the plan after school._

_Ryuji: Rooftop? Or should we meet straight at where we started off._

_Ryuji: You know, where that cunt Kamoshida, drove off._

_Ryuji: Hello?_

_Ryuji: Anyone there?_

_Ryuji: Oh crap, don't tell me I got the wrong numbers._

_Ren: Sakamoto. This is the principal's number. Meet me at my office for swearing about a teacher_

_Ryuji: ! ! !_

_Ryuji: Noooo! I'm sorry!_

_Shiori: Ryuji, you bastard. It's 4am_

#

At the train station, Shiori grumpily sipped coffee from her thermos flask.

"Morning," Ren yawned.

"Good morning," said Shiori.

Ren wiped his glasses. Shiori noticed him focusing on a distant screen for the train's ETA. Without wearing the specs.

"We're ten minutes early. Guess we won't be late today," said Ren.

"You ready to go back to the castle?"

Ren laughed.

"Something tells me they will be prepared for us. How do you propose we deal with everything trying to kill us?" asked Ren.

Shiori shrugged.

"Simple. If the natives speak violence, we must be fluent," she said.

* * *

 **Not a long chapter, this one is. The next one will likely be otherwise.**

 **Initially, I was not quite sure how I was going to proceed with this Goro x Hifumi thing. Truth be told, it was not until chapter 3 was written when I realised the story would be empowered by this unconventional pairing. I've done my zeal to demonstrate the context of their relationship, in this chapter. It's going to be an interesting contrast to Ren x Ann. Both Joker and Crow seek vengeance, but will take different paths to it. Will they arrive at the same destination? :)**


	6. Where is My Mind?

**Blackeye: Coffee with 2 shots of expresso.**

* * *

Ryuji could hear the lighthouse's siren. A dim blaring.

Ryuji continued to sink headfirst into the ocean's depths. Beams of light pierced the dark water, accompanied by the intermittent flashes of lightning Shiori conjured in the intense fighting on the burning ship.

One of the beams illumed Ryuji's face. His eyes were closed. Trails of bubbles escaped the corners of his mouth. Ryuji half-opened his eyes. The surface was so bright compared to the darkness he descended into. A line of blue fire slashed across the surface. Was that Ren's magic?

The line reminded Ryuji of his track days. The finish line tape. He could feel the wind of running against his cheeks, his thighs burning as he raced an inch ahead of a rival school competitor. The relay baton in his hand.

The exhilaration of winning. His teammates lifting him, laughing and cheering. . .

#

Shiori caught Jack-O-Knight's sword by the teeth. She shoved her tachi into its throat and yanked down. Flames spilled out of the maimed knight, hissing in the heavy rain. It fell into the stormy waters. The ship's (aflame) main mast splintered and groaned. The mast leaned, then came crashing down.

The impact shook the starboard, bringing Shiori down by a knee.

"Tch!"

Shiori pushed herself up, half stumbling and running on the rocking ship. She was about dive off where she saw Ryuji fall. There was no way the guy was conscious enough to swim back up. Five more Jack-O-Knights leapt in her way.

 _No no no no,_ thought Shiori.

The ship was already littered with a dozen smouldering dead knights. How many more of these things did Incubus have on the ship?

Shiori tried to charge up lightning. Her tachi briefly cackled sparks then died down. Dizziness spun her mind. Crap. Maybe she used up too much magic. Where was Morgana? And Ren?

Lightning flashed.

" _Arsene!_ "

That was Ren's throaty scream. A line of flames traversed the water. Shiori saw him pinned down, at the shore of the lighthouse. She saw _who_ had him pinned down. What was that person doing here?!

* * *

 _Hours earlier, at the 'real' Shujin Academy. . ._

Ren wished the water was colder. He splashed his face and straightened up to the mirror. The reflection showed a girl behind Ren, motionless like a horror movie cliché. Shiori was wearing a black surgical mask.

"Darn. I was hoping to spook you," said Shiori.

"I never took you to be into smog couture," said Ren.

"I ain't. This is me being undercover. Oh wow, they haven't removed this graffiti from last year," said Shiori, checking one of the stalls. A scrawly quote read, _If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything_.

Ren decided not to ask her why she was familiar with this boys' washroom.

"Did Ryuji find out that store name?" asked Ren.

" _Jeunesse et Beaut_. That's where we're meeting. I'm popping here to tell you I'll be fifteen minutes late. Need to check something at the library," said Shiori.

"You could have texted that instead of breaking a classical school rule."

Shiori spun a pair of handcuffs from her bag.

"Arrest me," she teased.

X

Shiori double-checked the maths question. Cartesian. Okay. She referenced the textbook she pulled from the library shelf and jotted down some examples she would look at later tonight.

"That's Oshiro. She was a high scorer last year."

"I heard her and Niijima-senpai were rivals, constantly battling for first place."

"Against Makoto Niijima? Daaaamn."

Shiori kept her face blank, lest those observing realise she could hear them. Didn't these people have some other petty thing to gossip about? Shiori hurriedly wrote down ten questions then replaced the library book back in the shelf. Shiori hastened her way out, sliding the library door too hard.

"Oshiro-san?"

Shiori seized up, recognising that dignified voice. Speak of the devil.

Shiori turned about. A neatly presented schoolgirl with a French-braid looping over her short hair/flat-edge fringe, stood before Shiori.

 _The haircut is new_ , thought Shiori.

Makoto Niijima clutched her school books, caught off-guard herself with meeting with this ex-classmate. A few interpersonal dynamics were mutual between the two girls. Veiled dislike, wariness, grudging recognition and respect.

"Niijima. . .san," Shiori greeted formally.

"I heard you had resumed school this week. You seem so-"

Those falun red eyes ran up Shiori.

"-different now. I suppose that's to be expected, considering the ordeal you went through," said Makoto.

"Am I now? I haven't even changed my hairdo. But you have," said Shiori, slanting her head sideways.

"No. . .not in appearance. More like the way you carry yourself now. You used to walk with articulate energy. Now it's like you're swaggering," said Makoto.

Makoto hesitated. She also wanted to add that there was something different about the look in Shiori's eyes too. Like something steely and visceral, compared to last year's softness.

Shiori did not like that Makoto was already detecting this about her. She had the other students and the principal fooled, but Niijima was not oblivious like them. At this rate, the genius student might end up deducing her tattoo's existence, like some _Death Note_ antagonist.

"Maybe I have changed. But Shujin has too. Congrats on the student council president election. Kizuna-senpai has a worthy successor," said Shiori.

"Thank you."

A pause.

Shiori cleared her throat.

"If you'll excuse me-"

"Wait. About the student council. I want to know, will you be coming back?" asked Makoto.

Shiori hitched her bag.

"No. It's not really my kind of gig now. I'm sure the council is _alert and performing_ on their duties, without me," Shiori could not resist her choice of words, thinking about Kamoshida and the suspicions she had for the volleyball coach.

Makoto narrowed her eyes. She caught that hint of mockery in Shiori's language. Oshiro never meant her words to Makoto on just a surface-level. It was one of this thot's trademarks. Along with making a point to sleep with whoever was the school's basketball captain for the year. Whore. Well whatever, Jin was not as cute as she first thought, Makoto told herself.

"I really think you should. The student council always benefitted from your contribution," said Makoto.

 _What are you up to?_ Shiori thought in suspicion. There was an ulterior motive here.

"I mean, the others expressed to me they'd like to see you back. I told them I'd try to request you personally, but that you might-"

Makoto raised her voice by a notch, enough for passing-by students to hear in the corridor.

"-might be hesitant to return to the council given that everyone knew we both intended to be student council president last year," said Makoto, in pretend-embarrassment.

So this was Niijima's bait. Letting the school think Shiori was salty about Makoto being elected student council president if Shiori did not resume at the student body. Even if Shiori did return, it would be passive-aggressive politics, with Makoto in-charge. Shiori was not impressed by this basic bitch's tactics. To the hell with what people would think! Shiori decided. She was not going to let Makoto-

Kamoshida emerged around the corner and sighted Shiori.

"It's good to finally catch you, Shiori," boomed Kamoshida.

"Good afternoon, sensei," greeted Makoto.

Closely watching the way Makoto greeted Kamoshida, Shiori could tell the volleyball coach seemed straight edge to the honour student.

"Hello Makoto. On your way to the usual studying sessions in the library?" asked Kamoshida.

"Yes. I trust the volleyball rally prep is going well? I hope the students I've allocated to help are sufficient," said Makoto.

"No, they're absolutely fine. You're doing a good job," said Kamoshida.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Shiori slowly inched away from the two.

"I hope you will consider the offer," said Makoto; she gave a snarky wink then entered the library.

"Offer?" asked Kamoshida.

Shiori hesitated.

"Niijima-san has asked me to resume my role at the student council board," said Shiori.

"I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed by that. I can only imagine after what happened, returning to school may be daunting," said Kamoshida.

Was he faking concern?

"The consideration is appreciated, sensei. I don't find it bad really, and I guess I don't mind thinking about Niijima-san's offer," said Shiori.

"Good to hear. And hey, the volleyball rally is coming up. I'm sure the fun spirit of the event will be good for you. Who knows, volleyball might be something you like," said Kamoshida.

 _Like how you like something of me?_ she nearly said.

Shiori faked a smile.

"I'll be sure to watch you play, sensei," said Shiori.

"Excellent. Well I'd best be on my way now. If you feel like you're struggling with any school stuff, you can talk to me, alright? One of the sciences of sports is empowering individuals, and I'm quite good at that," said Kamoshida.

* * *

Shiori appeared moody to Ryuji, when she finally showed at _Jeunesse et Beaut_. Shiori was muttering under her breath, like a witch incantating curses and jinxes.

"Did something happen?" asked Ryuji.

"Nothing relating to this. Where's Ren?"

"He went to grab a second coffee. Dude doesn't seem to be getting much sleep," said Ryuji.

"I wonder why."

Ryuji's ears went red.

"I did say sorry about waking yous up at 4 this morning, but-" Ryuji paused in a frown.

"-he insisted it was not my fault, saying he went to bed at 3 am," said Ryuji.

"What was he doing up that late?" asked Shiori.

"He didn't say. Maybe he's a Tumblr addict?"

#

Ren queued in the woody café. What was he doing here? Oh right, to grab coffee. Wait, why was he not on his way to Yongen-Jaya?

. . . _the castle. Ryuji. Shiori. We were to meet. Right,_ thought Ren.

Ren shook his head. Get a grip. Sleep deprivation could get them all killed if he didn't collect himself. Ren focused his awareness on listening to the café's environment, in an attempt to keep himself alert. Titbits of conversation floated their way to him.

"My boss is such a dick, it's like I'm his emotional punching bag."

Ayyy. Ren knew something about stuff like that.

"If I ever caught my girl cheating on me, I'd tie the guy up and anal him in front of her."

. . .oh.

"How's your injury, Shiho? Are you sure it's okay for you to resume training this soon?"

 _Hmm?_

That last one's voice was a bit familiar. The queue shortened.

"It's not that big of a deal. I should be able to get back in time for the volleyball rally," replied another voice.

Ren stiffened. The rally. What were the odds?

Ren sourced the conversation to the corner of the café, where two girls sat. Ren recognised the blonde among the two. Ann Takamaki. The other one was a brunette. This was 'Shiho' then?

"But you're wearing a leg brace. Are you sure it will heal in time?" asked Ann.

"Yeah," said Shiho.

It was the most forlorn 'Yeah' Ren had ever heard. Ren could not make out Shiho's face, but he could see Ann was looking at her friend with scepticism. Ann reached out and squeezed Shiho's hand.

"I'll. . .take your word for it, Shiho. But promise me you won't extenuate yourself, please? I know your training is hard. . .just don't forget to look after yourself," said Ann.

Ren finally reached the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"One blackeye please," said Ren.

"Sure. . ."

Ren waited by the side, straining to hear more from the two. This involved Kamoshida.

"Kamoshida's training will always be tough. But thank you, Ann. I couldn't ask for a better best friend with the way you look out for me," said Shiho.

"Hehe. Y-yeah. Likewise with you, Shiho," said Ann.

Nervous laughter. A stumbled word. Are you keeping something from your friend, Ann? Ren monologued. Ren referenced the gossips he heard at Shujin about Takamaki. Some people thought she was low-key sleeping with Kamoshida. Was she? Ann was incredibly attractive and Ren would not put it past Kamoshida to sleep with a student. There was also yesterday morning with the car ride.

"Here's your drink. Thank you for coming by."

"Thanks."

Well shit, who was he to put stock into rumours? Ren would know better himself, considering his own share of it. Ren was about to leave café when something made him stop. The instinct of knowing you're being stared at. Intuition told him who it was.

It did not matter now. The others were waiting. Ren exited the café, downing his hot drink in large gulps.

Ann's eyes followed him until he was out of sight.

#

"Okay, we're all here," declared Ryuji.

Ren dropped the empty cup into the bin. Shiori tilted her head. Now that she thought about it, Ren always had those dark circles under his eyes. Right from when they first met, in front of the supermarket.

"We were here yesterday. But I'm not sure what brought us to the other side," said Ryuji.

"Do you guys recall anything strange that happened? Like I dunno, some half-giant hiding around the corner, wanting to tell you, yer a wizard, Ryuji?" asked Ren

Ryuji snorted, folding his arms.

"No. Shiori?" Ryuji asked her.

Shiori carefully recalled yesterday morning. From the store-front to witnessing the castle, not slipping a detail. Every detail. Something was the catalyst. The trigger.

"Two things stand in common, between that morning here and being in the castle. Kamoshida," said Shiori.

Simultaneous beeps came from Ren and Shiori's pockets when she said the name. Ren pulled out his phone, tutting.

"This app keeps showing up on my phone. I've tried to delete it five times now but it keeps returning," remarked Ren.

"What app is that?" asked Ryuji, leaning by Ren's shoulder to see.

Why did Shiori's Nokia beep the same tune as Ren's BlackBerry? She had never heard that tone before. Shiori pulled out her phone and saw a strange red and black eye icon on her phone. She did not recall installing this.

"It would not happen to be an app with a creepy eye?" asked Shiori.

"Yeah! It is," said Ryuji.

 _This is the same tone I heard from Ren's pocket yesterday_ , Shiori realised.

"Wait. . ." said Shiori.

When she spoke, their phones beeped at 'Kamoshida'. Ryuji said his name about twice yesterday. What did Ryuji say that activated the beep Shiori heard?

"King of the castle," said Shiori.

" _Destination confirmed. Now travelling_ ," said the Nokia and BlackBerry.

The world around them warped.

Ren blinked.

"It's that castle from last time! But. . ." Ryuji trailed off.

At a different view.

Ren looked down at his feet, feeling his shoes get wet. A tide of water on sand. They were at a beach.

"This connects to the pier I noticed on our first visit here," said Shiori.

With the pier, a lighthouse was also in the distance, followed by a terrain leading up to the castle.

"You guys are back in those suits!" exclaimed Ryuji.

Ren flexed the red gloves.

"It's not exactly Armani's spring collection, but I like it," said Shiori, tugging her chrome studded belts.

"But why?! This makes no sense," groaned Ryuji.

Overhead, the dark sky rumbled and flashed. The clouds seemed very pregnant with rain and lightning. This all felt a bit ominous to Ren.

"I hope this won't turn out to be a mis-" Ren halted mid-speech.

"What's wrong?" asked Shiori.

". . .a mistake. Do you hear that?" asked Ren.

"Hear what?" asked Ryuji.

Ren screwed his forehead, discerning the eerie song. This could not be his imagination. Someone was singing. A soft feminine melody.

"Some girl is singing," said Ren.

Shiori cocked her head. She shook her head.

"I'm not catching that," she said slowly.

"I don't hear any singing. Where is it coming from?" said Ryuji.

Ren pointed to the lighthouse. The tower pulsated pink in synchronicity with the hymn. Shiori squinted at it.

"Someone is there," she said.

Shiori was right. Ren could vaguely make out a figure on a rock by the lighthouse. Another enemy?

"This place is getting weird. I figured we'd only get a castle, but now there's a beach, that lighthouse and a pier. Why?" asked Ryuji.

"I don't think logic is the 'in thing' around here. Should we head to the pier? I see some shacks lined up with. We can investigate those then head up to the castle. Maybe check out that lighthouse on the way."

* * *

The pier was rickety and mort at groaning from the burden of the trio's weight. Shutters went down from the shacks' windows, bolts were flipped and a pair of eyes peered at them from blinds.

"We're alone, yet others are here," contradicted Ren.

"Ha! They have every right to be scared of us. Where's your coward of a king, peasants?!" shouted Shiori, throwing out a fist in the air.

In the outstretched hand, a form took crystallisation in pearlescent glowing. A tachi appeared in Shiori's hand. Shiori nearly dropped the weapon in surprise herself.

"How'd you do that?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori weighted the weapon in her hand.

"I'm. . .I'm not sure myself. It just happened, like an accidental motor function I just remembered how to do," said Shiori.

Shiori swung the tachi. It made a low hum in the arc. At the same time, Yoshitsune appeared before Shiori looking down at her. The samurai did not look entirely corporeal, but more like a ghost in the stormy light. Shiori looked up at him in wonder.

"What are you?" she murmured, reaching out to Yoshitsune.

"That's your Persona."

The cat that said that dropped in the middle of the group. It was Morgana.

"I was wondering what caused the disturbance around here, only to find it was you three. You barely escaped with your lives from last time. Why are you here again?" asked Morgana.

"Answers," said Ren.

Morgana folded his paws.

"Oh?"

"What is this castle? What is Kamoshida doing here? What's a persona? Why do Ren and Shiori look like that?" Ryuji outbursted.

Morgana appeared perplexed.

"Wait, you guys are running around with those powers, in a Palace whose ruler knows you personally, yet you don't understand the basics of all this? You're rolling with Yoshitsune and Arsene; these are famous Personas used by past metaverse users," said Morgana.

"You're making this more confusing, dude," whined Ryuji.

Shiori dismissed her tachi and crouched in front of Morgana.

"Please explain to us, Morgana. We would greatly appreciate it," said Shiori.

Morgana sighed.

"Alright, starting from the beginning of blondie's questions. This castle is a Palace. A warped reality projected from a twisted 'heart'. In your real world, it would take the form of a school. You guys said that name, 'Kamoshida', right? He's the Palace ruler of this place, and thus why everyone listens to him around here. As for your Personas. . ." said Morgana.

" _Arsene_ ," murmured Ren.

Arsene took form in a similar capacity to Yoshitsune. They towered above the others, looking mysterious. Morgana nodded.

"A Persona is a mystical entity that is in frequency with your own heart. They might be a god, a fictional character, a real person, anything, any person or symbol which has passed through the consciousness of mankind. Frizzy-hair over here has Arsene-" Morgana paused in hesitation.

"-upheavals and tragedy have been known to follow this Thief of Twilight. His last known operation was during the fall of the Berlin Wall. A young Soviet spy had him because he possessed the will of rebellion. As for Choker-neck's over here, your Persona is Yoshitsune. This one is rarer than Arsene because the potency of his power is great. Few people could handle being his vassal and even fewer are chosen by this Japanese hero," said Morgana.

"Tragedy follows Arsene? How was the fall of the Berlin Wall tragic?" asked Shiori.

"Every revolution has its background casualties," said Morgana.

Goosebumps on Ren's arms; he said nothing to all this.

"And why does Shiori look like a steampunk thief? Or Ren, a Victorian one?" asked Ryuji.

Morgana shrugged.

"That's. . .a bit more complicated. Remember when I said this Palace has a ruler? Everything is a symbolic reflection of his cognition in this school he frequents. His perception of you three, combined with the element of having a Persona, creates a chemistry reaction. In the instance of Ren and Shiori. . .they look like thieves, right? So Kamoshida sees them as a kind of intruder. When Kamoshida's cognition of – Frizzy-hair is Ren? Ok. So when Kamoshida's cognition of Ren is one of an intruder, Ren's inner psyche reacts to fulfil that image. I guess in his mental state, a Victorian-styled thief resonates with Ren the most. Similar goes with Shiori," said Morgana.

". . ."

The teenagers were quiet, trying to absorb everything Morgana was telling them. Ryuji looked like he had trouble understanding, Shiori seemed troubled by the implications and Ren was mentally jotting notes into his revenge diary.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" snickered Morgana.

Finally, Ren asked Morgana, "Who are you, really? We know your name but beyond that nothing. How do you know these things?"

It was Morgana's turn to look unsure.

"I cannot recall," said Morgana, curt.

"What do you mean you can't?" asked Ryuji.

Morgana's tail twitched.

"As in, I know things, about the metaverse, the Palaces, their mechanics, lore of most Personas; everything, except for my identity. I don't know why is it that I can talk like a person even though I'm a cat. I can only ascertain that something happened to me in this metaverse reality, which 'broke' my memories. I found myself at Kamoshida's castle with nothing more than the conviction that I'd find the first clue to regaining my memories here," said Morgana.

"Damn. Sorry to hear that, dude. I'm Ryuji by the way."

Shiori paced the pier width-ways – stopped and stared into the ocean's horizon, her hands on her head.

"A castle. Kamoshida sees the school as. . .his castle," she said, incredulous.

Ryuji laughed hysterically then stomped the pier in anger.

"The audacity of that son of a bitch," growled Ryuji.

"You seem to really hate this guy," commented Morgana.

"You – have no idea. _Everything_ is that arsehole's fault," seethed Ryuji.

Ren and Shiori made eye contact. The way Ryuji stood was part of the explanation.

"I don't know what happened between you and Kamoshida, but be sure to keep level-headed alright? One mistake could get you all killed here. While we're on that topic, you guys came here for answers and I've answered all, yes?"

The sudden blaring of a siren interluded the course of their conversation. It came from the lighthouse. By the side of the rocky formation around the lighthouse, a barquentine ship emerged. Ren and Shiori dissolved their Personas for a low profile.

"Ryuji, we got our answers. Is there anything else you want from here?" asked Shiori.

Ryuji seemed reluctant. Shiori was right. They fulfilled the purpose of their visit here. What more could they do? That ship looked like it was bad news too.

"What's wrong with you?" Morgana asked Ren.

"Huh?" said Ryuji.

Shiori noticed Ren was suddenly hyperventilating. A vein popped at his neck as if he was fighting something within him.

"The. . .singing from earlier," gasped Ren.

Ren took a trembling step forward to the lighthouse. Then another. This was not him in control. Whoever was singing had cast some sort of enchantment, aching Ren's body to reach her.

"What singing?" asked Morgana.

How could none of the others hear it, especially now that they were closer to the lighthouse?

 _Shit_ , thought Ren.

"Shiori. Stop me," Ren said, his voice strained - then broke off into a wild sprint towards the lighthouse.

Morgana and Ryuji's jaw dropped. What was he doing?! Shiori summoned the tachi in her hand and took off after Ren. After a few seconds, Morgana and Ryuji followed.

X

The ship was docked not too far from the lighthouse. A thirty second swim at least. Shiori stumbled to a stop, panting. Where did Ren go? She scaled a large rock, getting a vantage point. She spotted Ren at the shore, approaching a platform bedrock. On the bedrock, sat a near-naked blonde girl. While the lighthouse's siren blared, this 'siren' swivelled her head to Ren. Shiori gasped. It was Ann Takamaki.

"Shiori! Look out!"

Shiori looked back at Morgana and Ryuji, who were running to catch up. Then to the ship. She saw why they warned her.

 _You gotta be kidding-_

On the ship was a railgun loaded with a capture net meant for whaling. This railgun was pointed to Shiori. The railgun fired. It enclosed on Shiori at shocking speed, imprisoning her. Shiori yowled and began wildly slashing at the dense net. The mechanism of the railgun wounded and yanked her off the rock, into a hard splash at the water. Shiori barely had time to hold her breath before getting submerged.

#

"Oh no," said Morgana.

"We gotta go after her!" said Ryuji.

Morgana was not excited at the thought of getting in the water.

"What about Ren?"

"We can't find Ren right now, but we know he can fend for himself. Look at that ship, a lot of Kamoshida's men are on it!"

Ryuji was right. With reluctance, Morgana waded into the water, following Ryuji. They swam towards the ship.

#

Ren was in a high state of _What-the-actual-fuck_ as he approached Ann. The girl was barely covered, save for some skimpy two-piece white cloth which draped around her bosom and a short skirt cover. Not that Ren's imagination had much work to do. He saw it all as the material was wet and translucent against Ann's skin. In the real world, Ann had set her hair as twin pigtails. Here it was untied and set to fall in graceful curls. Ren found the situation baffling.

He also found her beautiful.

"Ann?" Ren asked.

The pressure eased off his thighs. Ren found himself back in full control of his body again. 'Ann' tilted her gaze down to Ren, sitting sidesaddle on the rock.

"Hey there pretty boy," she said, husky.

Ren's cheeks burned. He would have preferred to fight a castle dragon than be unbalanced like this. Lightning flashed. It began to rain.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked.

She pouted at him. Ann reached out to Ren's collars and pulled him closer to her. As if it was not hard enough to breathe in the dense rain.

"What? You don't like being near me? Being close like this-" Ann grabbed him by the crotch.

"-oh. . .feels like your body betrays your fake inhibition," she teased him.

Ren's peripheral vision distracted him. He turned his head, seeing his friends on-board the ship with Jack-O-Knights on it. He also saw that ostentatious man who stood by Eligor in the coliseum. Ann grasped his chin, returning his gaze to her in an upward tilt.

"Now now. I'm your whole world now," said Ann.

Ann smelt like tequila, ocean mist and smoked wood. This girl was like a beach party in the bottle, driving Ren's senses crazy. She licked him under the jawline, which made his knees shake.

Ren shakily pushed her away from him. Ann looked at him hurt and angered.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"Shiori would probably kick my arse if I started making out with some chic, while they're in trouble over there," muttered Ren.

Plus, he realised this was just a mannequin of how Kamoshida saw the real Ann. Not. . .that it would have made a difference if it was a real Ann, he thought half-heartedly to himself.

"What's this now? First you show you disgrace my territory by showing your filthy hide, and now you're making a move on my bitch? My property?!"

At a vantage rock point, Shadow Kamoshida stood looking down at Ren, arms folded. There were two guards by his side.

"Your what?" Ren asked in askance.

Was Kamoshida this obsessed with Ann? That she did not possess liberty over her own self, emotionally and physically? Ren was starting to develop a distinct sense of hatred for the man.

Kamoshida flashed a grin at Ren's hateful glare.

"I suppose this is the best you could ever touch a girl this beautiful, huh? Tell you what, I'll let you sample her in the castle – _if_ you help me capture Shiori and hand her over to me," said Shadow Kamoshida.

"How about you kiss my arse," suggested Ren.

Shadow Kamoshida tutted.

"You're just like Ryuji in this regard. He dared to rebel against me, you know? I thought I'd be able to break his spirit and his teammates but they were indomitable that way. So. . ." Kamoshida's grin grew nastier.

". . .I insulted his mother. The funny thing about sons and their love for their mothers hehe. A man might take all the abuse in the world on himself, but just suggest that his father left his mother because she was a skanky whore and it's like something in him will-" Shadow Kamoshida flicked his fingers.

"-snap. It was an easy bait into breaking the track team and his precious leg."

The sky thundered. A fork of lightning profiled behind Kamoshida and the two Jack-O-Knights by his side.

"Adults like you. . ." Ren began quietly.

A dagger materialised in Ren's hand.

". . .really piss me off. I never got to ask Morgana what would happen if I killed the Palace ruler, but I think I'll find out here."

"Hmph! A king's rule must be long and prosperous. I do not plan on dying here today," said Shadow Kamoshida.

"Yeah? And what's going to protect you? Just those two?" asked Ren, twirling the dagger.

Those yellow eyes twinkled at Ren.

"These two, correct. Also her," said Shadow Kamoshida, nodding to Princess Ann.

 _Huh?_

Princess's eyes had gone from blue to full metal black. Black tears streaked down her cheeks. Sharp canines jutted, like a vampire. Princess Ann stood.

"You would scorn me, dickhead?" she whispered to Ren.

Ren did not consider himself the type to take crap from women he was not attached to. Ren leapt at Princess Ann before she tried that song on him again, arcing the dagger at where her neck was. Princess Ann had leapt back and landed on all fours, like a cat. She snarled at Ren.

" _Arsene!_ "

Ren stomped a foot forward, where a line of blue fire kicked up from the sand and towards Princess Ann. Princess Ann twirled sideways. The line of fire continued onwards to the ocean, almost hitting the ship. The siren leapt at Ren, her sharp-pointed hands grabbing him by the hair.

Princess Ann's other hand struck him in the sternum, driving the wind out of Ren. He collapsed to his knees. Princess Ann yanked Ren by the hair, exposing the side of his neck. She sank her teeth into the skin. Princess Ann kicked Ren to the ground, who fell on his back. She pinned Ren down into submission.

Princess Ann licked some of the blood spilling out of Ren's neck. Had the dark princess's canines gone deeper, Ren would have been a goner already.

Princess Ann paused.

"You know, some psychologists say aggression is a form of sexual attraction," she remarked.

"Fuck you."

#

A thick circle of soldiers formed around the writhing mass of the capture net. Some of the Jack-O-Knights were nervous, as they were there to witness how the intruders killed Eligor.

Their leader Incubus, stood fearless and closest to the net. He was mildly annoyed by the storm's rain, which had ruined his breeches.

Shiori finally made it out. She threateningly swayed her tachi at the soldiers, realising she was surrounded. The point of her blade stopped at Incubus, who stayed impassive at the weapon, despite it being so close to his eye.

"Good day, fair maiden," greeted Incubus.

Shiori cocked her head. Incubus could tell the girl was eyeing for an opening out of here.

Incubus continued, "My name is Incubus. There is no need for the weapon. You can put it away," he said.

"I don't know. I'm feeling rather attached to it right now. Maybe I'll hold onto it for a bit longer," said Shiori, smiling.

Incubus smiled back. Shiori had to admit, he was pretty good looking. His smile too had redeeming qualities that spoke to Shiori. Trust me. You'll be safe with me. The tachi wavered. Shiori shook her head, snapping out of the Incubus's passive seduction. Was this one of his abilities?

"You said you're Incubus? Like those demons who seduced and rooted humans?" asked Shiori.

Shiori started to laugh. It was so funny, her eyes watered. Incubus's eyebrow twitched.

"What is amusing?" Incubus asked politely.

"It's just. . .you're literally a fuckboy from hell," said Shiori. Another burst of laughter came out of her.

Incubus neither understood the girl's humour nor was he amused.

"Shiori!"

The circle of ranks broke, revealing to Shiori who said that. Ryuji stood at the edge of the ship. Morgana joined, climbing out of the edge, flickering his ears.

"We are so not swimming back," complained Morgana.

Morgana noticed Incubus and all the guards. He swallowed. A scimitar materialised in the cat's paw. Behind Morgana, Zorro's form flashed – Persona powers ready. Everyone became silent like a wild west standoff.

Above their heads, cages rattled in the gale. Wait. Cages? Ryuji realised. He looked above and saw cells hung from the masts of the ship, like parrot cages. Shujin students were in them. People he actually knew. Ryuji memorised their miserable faces, one by one. At the last one, was a blue-haired student. That was Mishima, class 2-D's representative.

Lightning struck the mast Cognitive Mishima hung from, setting it alight. The flames travelled from the sailcloth and lit up the guy inside.

Incubus rolled his eyes when Cognitive Mishima's screams of pain became audible over the storm. How annoying. The boy unsuccessfully tried to escape his locked cage.

"We need to get him outta there!" said Ryuji.

"There's no point," said Morgana.

"What do you mean there's no point?! Can't you see he's suffering?" Ryuji shouted.

"Ryuji, this is Kamoshida's cognition of the school. The students we see here aren't real. The suffering of these ones are not real," said Shiori.

But. . .

Shiori looked up at the cages. Cognitive Mishima's pain was not easing up. Shiori could see the laws of this Palace kept him alive in eternal punishment. Another cage caught aflame. This one had a girl. . .was that Shiho Suzui?

" _Please. Let me die_ ," said Cognitive Suzui.

Shiori's blood went cold. These cognitive students were not real. But they were nonetheless a symbolic reflection of what was happening to them in the real world. The suffering was a reflection. The wish to die was a reflection.

Shiori gripped her tachi so tightly, her hand started to hurt.

"We have wasted too much time," said Incubus; he was fed up.

Incubus dissolved into a wraith form, snaking to Ryuji and Morgana. Surprising the two, Incubus solidified, bursting a spark of curse-looking magic which blasted Morgana to the side, crashing into wooden crates.

"Morgana!" gasped Ryuji.

Incubus flicked Ryuji on the forehead. Ryuji's eyes rolled, losing awareness. Incubus pushed Ryuji into the water and turned to Shiori.

"Pay this price for your insolence," said Incubus.

Incubus disappeared into his wraith form again, wisping into the stormy winds.

#

Ryuji could hear the lighthouse's siren blare. Dim blarings.

Ryuji continued to sink headfirst into the ocean's depths. Beams of light pierced the dark water, accompanied by the intermittent flashes of lightning Shiori conjured in the intense fighting on the burning ship.

One of the beams illumed Ryuji's face. His eyes were closed. Trails of bubbles escaped the corners of his mouth. Ryuji half-opened his eyes. The surface was so bright compared to the darkness he descended into. A line of blue fire slashed across the surface. Was that Ren's magic?

The line reminded Ryuji of his track days. The finish line tape. He could feel the wind of running against his cheeks, his thighs burning as he raced an inch ahead of a rival school competitor. The relay baton in his hand.

The exhilaration of winning. His teammates lifting him, laughing and cheering. . .

#

Shiori caught Jack-O-Knight's sword by the teeth. She shoved her tachi into its throat and yanked down. Flames spilled out of the maimed knight, hissing in the heavy rain. It fell into the stormy waters. The ship's (aflame) main mast splintered and groaned. The mast leaned, then came crashing down, taking the cages attached, down with it.

The impact shook the starboard, bringing Shiori down by a knee.

"Tch!"

Shiori pushed herself up, half stumbling and running on the rocking ship. She was about dive off where she saw Ryuji fall. There was no way the guy was conscious enough to swim back up. Five more Jack-O-Knights leapt in her way.

 _No no no no,_ thought Shiori.

The ship was already littered with a dozen of smouldering dead knights. How many more of these things did Incubus have on the ship?

Shiori tried to charge up lightning. Her tachi briefly cackled sparks then died down. Dizziness spun her mind. Crap. Maybe she used up too much magic. Where was Morgana? And Ren?

Lightning flashed.

" _Arsene!_ "

That was Ren's throaty scream. A line of flames traversed the water. Shiori saw him pinned down, at the shore of the lighthouse. She saw _who_ had him pinned down. What was that person doing here?!

#

Ryuji choked. He was back in the water. In front of him was a cage with a student in it. The cage sank faster than him, bound to the mast that had broken off the ship. Ryuji just made out the face of the student before it disappeared into the dark abyss. It was Mishima. Accepting his fate of eternally drowning.

Something clicked. A zing of energy opened in Ryuji's heart. His eyes turned yellow. The water around him started to bubble, heating up. _I am thou_. . .

#

"Come on ladies," taunted Shiori.

Shiori held her tachi in her left hand this time. Her right arm hung loosely, incapacitated by a rent one of the knights managed to land in a lucky strike. The head of that one was piked on his own weapon.

A dozen more Jack-O-Knights advanced, emboldened by Shiori's injury.

The knights stopped. What were they doing? Shiori thought. One of them pointed to the water.

Shiori saw a light blue glow in the dark water. It grew bigger and bigger, until was as big as the ship.

 _It's shaped like a ship too_ , Shiori realised.

Something large emerged out of the water, bringing up a huge tide that went airborne. Shiori slammed into the door of the cabin quarters. A large mass of water came crashing down on the ship, extinguishing the fires the rain could not. It also flattened and scattered the Jack-O-Knights, like a cup of water poured on ants.

The ship began to sink. At the same time, a loud _BANG_ went off. Shiori waded out of the cabin, waist-deep in the water. An incredible sight awaited her.

A large ghostly blue ship was next to the sinking one she was on. Ryuji stood with a foot on the railings of his Persona's ship, grinning at Shiori. One of the few knights who survived the water bomb splash, jumped at Ryuji's ship.

" _Captain Kidd!_ "

A skull-like pirate materialised behind Ryuji, who discharged electricity, frying the knight in mid-leap.

 _BANG!_

Another explosion rocked the ship. The sinking accelerated. Morgana landed on Shiori's head, not wanting to be in the water a second longer.

"We should get off. I've rigged the ship's TNT to blow up, one by one," said Morgana.

"Do you trust us?" Shiori asked.

Morgana was thrown off by the question.

"Why?" asked Morgana.

Shiori lifted Morgana with her good arm and tossed the startled cat to Ryuji, who caught him. Ryuji placed Morgana down and held out his hand to Shiori. Shiori took a deep breath and began running. Her last step kicked her off the railings. Shiori held out to Ryuji.

Ryuji leaned further forward and caught Shiori's hand. His other arm came, gripping and pulling her up. He managed to heave her onto the deck of the ghost ship. Shiori laid there, panting with her eyes closed.

More explosions emitted from Incubus's ship. The whole thing went down, with its prisoners and soldiers. Ryuji sombrely watched the water, his expression partially covered by the skull mask.

"Ryuji. . ." began Morgana.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The students weren't real," said Ryuji.

Shiori sat up in a jolt.

"Ren's in trouble!" she exclaimed.

#

Ren was in the water. Princess Ann had been waterboarding him for the past five minutes, having whooped his ass through and through. Princess Ann lifted his head above the water, allowing him to gasp for air.

"Join me in the king's quarters when you're done, Ann. _My body will be ready_ ," said Shadow Kamoshida; he left with the guards.

Ren groaned.

"You should have just let me drown instead of having me hear that," said Ren.

"Jealous, aren't we?"

Ren could not beat this person the normal way, especially after she disabled him with a siren song. Again. Ren cursed the fact that he was the only one affected this way by Princess Ann. It was time for change in strategy.

"Maybe a little," said Ren.

Ren could not see her face, having been pinned on his chest in the shallows. Princess Ann did not say anything immediately. Did the ruse work?

Ren was thrown back onto the sand. He breathed out in relief.

Princess Ann's eyes reverted to blue. She sighed then motioned to leave Ren.

"You're not going to finish me off?" asked Ren, sitting up.

Princess Ann avoided his eyes. She seemed distracted, perhaps slightly annoyed by Ren.

"This has gotten boring. I'm heading back now," said Princess Ann.

". . ."

She picked up Ren's dagger and tossed it to him.

"If we cross paths again, I will kill you. Okay?" said Princess Ann.

Ren believed her. She left.

Ren collapsed back on the sand, trying to recover a bit of vigour. His entire body was sore, wearied and covered in cuts. He closed his eyes.

"Ren!"

That was Ryuji's voice.

"Is he dead?!"

Morgana.

The other three huddled around Ren. Shiori lightly slapped him. Ren opened his eyes. Relief came through his comrades.

"Jeez buddy. You gave us a scare there," said Ryuji.

"Nice outfit," said Ren; he slowly got to his feet.

Ren straightened up groaning. To think he got his ass kicked by a girl this badly. . .

"Where is she?" asked Shiori.

"She?" asked Ryuji.

Ren explained about Princess Ann, censoring out the lewd bits (which happened to be a lot of the whole story).

"For real? That sounds crazy," said Ryuji.

"I gotta say Ryuji, I think I'll join your 'Fuck Kamoshida' club. He's a big-time sicko," said Ren.

"He is," said Shiori, thinking about the cages.

Morgana healed Shiori and Ren's wounds.

"You guys were pretty competent today. Even you, Ryuji," said Morgana.

" _Even_ me? What's that supposed to mean?"

 _Maybe I can use them to help find all the clues to my identity_ ¸ thought Morgana.

"Thanks again, Morgana. You made us understand this place better," said Shiori.

"No problem. Since I've scratched your ear, you'll do the same for me in the future?" asked Morgana.

"If it's within our means, for sure," said Ren.

Ren looked really tired to Shiori. She still did not know the full extent of his sleep deficit.

"I think we should head back," said Shiori.

"This isn't over," said Ryuji, looking at the castle in anger.

"I agree. Something messed up is possibly going on at Shujin," said Shiori.

Ren opened the metaverse navigator app and selected 'Exit'. The teenagers returned to the real world.

* * *

Ren entered Leblanc Café, greeted Sojiro on autopilot then headed straight to his room, barely kicking off his shoes. Ren collapsed straight onto the bed, in his uniform. Sleep took over in seconds.

* * *

 **Chapter 6 gave me a bit of trouble. I had trouble writing the portion of where they were in Kamoshida's Palace for the 2nd time. Writer's block and all that other jazz. I was pleased to finally introduce Makoto into the story. Her inclusion into the fanfic was overdue.**

 **Having things go down by the ocean was something that made sense to me as Ryuji's awakening involves Captain Kidd and I wanted to make the venue special for him and add more to his character. As for** **Princess Ann, those who have played the game have noted that she's been changed. While Kamoshida still treats her as something merely for sexual gratification/his ownership,** **Princess Ann is equipped with a siren's prowess while playing a lieutenant-esque role like Incubus and Eligor (R.I.P). Of all the Phantom Thieves, Ren is critically the worst person to fight the evil princess because of his theoretical chemistry with irl Ann/their connection to each other, ergo greatly amplifying** **Princess Ann's ability to affect Ren as a siren.  
**

 **I'm rubbing my hands for the next chapter and onwards. Up until now it's been mostly foundation stuff like Shiori, Akechi, the style, etc but now an important component of the fanfiction: Ren x Ann - is going to kick into gear.  
**


	7. Dare You to Move

.

Ren woke up feeling unusually refreshed. His phone told him it was 3 AM. He got off the bed, clicking his stiff neck. Funny, he even fell asleep in his uniform. Ren's stomach growled. Ren also realised he missed dinner. And a shower.

Ren changed and headed downstairs with a towel and a change of clothes. The shop's sign was unturned.

 _Hmm._

Ren opened the door, sticking his head out of Leblanc. The alley was empty. A cool draft of wind entered the café. Ren checked under the doormat. No, not there. He checked behind the pot of plants. Yes! Looks like Sojiro hid the spare key there. He locked the café and turned the sign.

The bathhouse was thankfully the kind that ran 24/7.

Ren relaxed into the hot water. It had been months since he allowed himself to be at this kind of ease. Ren's hand clasped his neck, feeling a phantom sensation of the bite Princess Ann gave him there. He realised he was going to have to face the real one at school today. Takamaki sat there in front of him. Ren felt like he would not be able to look at her in the eye without remembering the throwdown with Princess Ann. Their fight had been vicious, frisky and uncomfortably intimate. Intimate violence? he mused.

Ren's slashed a finger at the water, annoyed by himself. Whether it was by flaw or strength of his character, Ren had lived his whole life with an 'all in or nothing' attitude. It was something he could not help. Even hate and anger was something as burning as love and attraction; you feel something strongly for a person in both. Ren did not like hating people casually.

Not because it was a negative emotion, but because it meant they would exist emotionally charged in his thoughts. A kind of closeness in his heart that he shirked at. Just as you wouldn't invite any strangers into your private bedroom, the analogy with Ren was that his heart should be kept freed from fingerprints of people he was not close to.

With the way Princess Ann incited him, the aggression had put Ren in a state of all in. Fingerprints in a homicide crime scene.

 _I'll need to rationalise that my feelings are directed to_ _Princess Ann and not the real one_ , thought Ren.

The thin line that divides love and hate. The thin space that divides him and Ann as they sat in the classroom. Thin planes of school and the castle. Vindicates him in one. Promises murder in the other.

If he failed to rationalise, Ren would hate Ann, a girl whom he has never spoken to. It was logical. Ren was still not over Kyoko from his home town. Hate was the only path open. Ren rolled his eyes. Dramatic, aren't we?

" _Jealous, aren't we?" said_ _Princess Ann._

Ren got off and dried himself. After pulling on a grey Tshirt, he saw he had a few messages in IM. There was one other notification. A missed call. From his father. He tapped the screen harder than he needed to. Details said it came at 6 PM. Ren must have been asleep during that time. Ren switched to the IM app. There were unread messages from the group chat with Shiori and Ryuji. And one from his mother. Ren opened the one from his mother first.

_Mum: Ren. Your father called your phone and you did not answer._

_Mum: You need to learn to be alert and competent. You know your father is a busy man. Wasting his time is the same as stealing from his wallet_

_Mum: Be grateful that he would talk to you after what you did. After what your conviction did to this family's image. Do not repeat this again. We're flying out tomorrow to Amsterdam for a conference. If something happens meantime, call my secretary_

Ren swallowed. He mentally kicked himself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why did he have to be so tired that he missed this call?!

Ren left the bathhouse. The night shift manager was surprised to see a customer leave stressed out. Usually, their clientele were chilled out after enjoying the hot baths.

#

Sojiro was sitting on one of the stools when Ren returned. He saw the boy stop startled, stricken then panicked.

Ren waited for Sojiro to lash out at him for going out at night when Sojiro explicitly told him not to. Sojiro frowned at him.

"What are you shrivelling for?" asked Sojiro.

"I just thought I'd take a shower, I'm-" Ren began to apologise.

"Yeah, I can see that. Towel hanging on your shoulder. The bathhouse is pretty nice, huh?" said Sojiro.

 _Eh?_

Why was Sojiro not telling him off for going out at night? Ren thought confused.

"You're not mad at me for going out at night?" asked Ren.

Sojiro looked at him like there was something wrong with the boy. Kids these days were so strange, thought Sojiro.

"You were taking a bath. Like any normal person. Why – would I be angry at you for that? The curfew thing was meant to stop you from going out and doing irresponsible things like meeting with druggies and so on. You know that."

". . ."

Sojiro picked a box from the counter. Ren saw the words _Radeon RX VEGA_ written on it. A PC graphics processor card? Ren never figured him to be into PC building.

"Anyway, I came back here for this. Forgot it at the café. You didn't eat dinner, yeah? I just ordered some takeaway. Should be here in twenty minutes. Be sure you clean up when you've eaten," Sojiro said gruffly.

The bell tinkled.

The takeaway delivery turned out to be some sort of South Asian cuisine. 'Goat Kothri' was written on the folded box with a container of the food inside. Ren never ate such a thing before. It was delicious. Spicy, but in a good way. He finished it, grateful.

* * *

 _Next day_.

"Did you read the messages?" Shiori asked Ren in a low voice.

Another train went parallel to theirs. The sunlit window profiles inside their train moved like a movie film rolling. The glow on Shiori's face changed ten times in a second, between shadow and sunlight.

"No. But I got a good guess," murmured Ren.

Shiori nodded.

"Ren, there is something wrong with Shujin. And I don't mean, cuz there's a school president walking around, relishing how her ego is shoved up the abyss of her arse-"

"Say what?"

"-it's the strong possibility that Kamoshida is doing something terrible to the students of our school."

" _Now arriving at Aomine-Itchome_."

Shiori and Ren got off.

"Ryuji wants us to find out what's going on?" asked Ren.

"So do I. Don't you?"

"Just run me through again, what you and Ryuji saw on that ship. . ."

They continued walking together, while Shiori explained. When she was done, they were nearing the steps of Shujin. The school looked darker to Ren today. How ironic he came to this school to stay out of trouble, yet the situation quickly spiralled into him being sucked in a plot that possibly involved abuse and ephebophilia.

"I didn't think you were going to be this right when you said Shujin was not the right choice," said Ren.

Shiori hugged herself. She seemed unsettled by her own words from then.

"I've known since last year that Kamoshida was a power-tripping cunt who sometimes bullied the students, but this is beyond my assumptions. Ren, why was there a cognitive student who begged to die?" asked Shiori.

"We could. . .ask around. But it's not something that can be done easily. That student Shiho Suzui, I don't think she's even in our class, is she?"

"No. It would be impossible to interrogate all these people. Not today. But tomorrow, we can. The volleyball rally is on," said Shiori.

Ren shoulder-leaned by the side of a vending machine. He folded his arms, thinking. Shiori tapped her foot on the ground, hands on hips.

"The classes will be freed up. Yeah, that sounds straightforward. Just ask everyone while the matches are happening."

The tapping became faster.

"That still feels crude and a bit inefficient. We need a better game plan. Kamoshida gets one sniff we're onto him, both you and Ryuji are screwed. I could weasel my way out of stuff like that, but not guys like you two," said Shiori.

The tapping stopped.

"Maybe. . .' Shiori started.

"Hmm?"

"How would you feel about helping prepare for the volleyball rally? It gets you more involved with this event and you'll have an excuse to move in the background, rather than being dodgy. Maybe even some preliminary investigation before tomorrow," said Shiori.

"Umm. . .I could? But isn't that in the jurisdiction of the student council?" asked Ren.

Shiori pulled out her phone and quickly selected to compose a message to Makoto Niijima, making sure Ren could see the screen.

_Shiori: I'll take your offer. Kamoshida encouraged me to get more involved with volleyball, I figured helping out with the rally is a good starting point._

"Niijima-san is the student council president. Yesterday she offered me my spot back on the board," explained Shiori.

It was two minutes before Makoto replied. Shiori could practically feel the unsettled surprise frizzle off the screen.

_Makoto: I'm glad you're returning. Meet me at the student council room at recess._

 _Sure you are_ , thought Shiori.

"Now what?" asked Ren.

"I'll put forward your name as a helper. I don't think I'll be able to do the same for Ryuji. Usually it's appropriate that I recommend only my classmates. While you're playing foot soldier out there, I'll snoop through the council's records, see if they've received any complaints from students over Kamoshida. They store these things on the computer they've got there," said Shiori.

Shiori opened the trio's group chat.

_Shiori: Ryuji, can you meet us a while after school? We've got a solid plan but Ren and I might be held back during the club hours._

_Ryuji: I can._

_Ryuji: I know a good ramen place. My shout. As thanks for sticking up for me on our last visit to the castle and helping me figure this thing out with Kamoshida_

X

Recess came.

Shiori slid open the student council room door.

"Oshiro-senpai! Welcome back."

"Nice choker yo."

"I'm not really your senpai now, Takamura-san. You're all third years now," Shiori said in an embarrassed tone.

Makoto stood from her seat.

"Welcome back to the student council, Oshiro-san," said Makoto, bowing.

Shiori bowed back. It was going to be psychological warfare for the rest of the year, she thought to herself. Shiori reminded herself this would help them figure out what Kamoshida was really doing.

"We were just discussing the volleyball rally prep. It's going slower than we wanted it to," explained Takamura.

"Neato. I actually have a volunteer who would be willing to help out with the preparations," said Shiori.

"Oh?" said Makoto; she braced on one hand, watching Shiori closely.

Shiori held it together under Niijima's intense scrutiny.

"Yeah. The Amamiya guy. You guys heard of him?" asked Shiori, sitting down.

"Amamiya. . .whoa! The guy with the criminal record?" said Takamura.

"Are you sure that will be okay?" asked the other council member, Nakata.

Shiori traced a cross over her heart.

"I'll put my reputation on with him. He's actually a good guy. If he messes up, it's all on me," said Shiori.

 _Your reputation, huh?_ Makoto thought with sarcasm. If only people knew your undercover activities.

Shiori knew what Makoto was thinking. Shiori allowed herself to show a little smirk to Makoto. The others thought Shiori was smiling, but the context was different to Makoto.

 _Time to play along. It will be good misdirection to keep Niijima from figuring out why I'm actually here_ , thought Shiori.

"I hear Kuro Okazaki was appointed the captain of the school basketball team this year," said Shiori.

"He was. Why do bring that up?" asked Makoto, a little sharply.

Shiori shrugged.

"Aren't we in-charge of helping out the sports teams and clubs?" Shiori asked in a sweet voice.

Takamura nodded approvingly.

"We are."

The council room door opened.

"Oh hey, Mishima."

 _Mishima?_ thought Shiori.

Shiori turned on her seat to see the meek blue-haired boy. Right. Yuuki Mishima. He was the class representative of 2-D. The first cognitive student who screamed on the boat was this guy. Shiori noted the band-aid on his cheek.

"Hey Nakata-san. I'm here about that student I said I'd recommend - for helping with the volleyball rally prep," said Mishima.

"Shiori just recommended one from your class," said Nakata.

"Who's your recommendation, Mishima-san?" asked Makoto.

"Ann Takamaki," said Mishima.

Shiori narrowed her eyes at Mishima. She had never seen Mishima talk to Takamaki. Why did Mishima flinch slightly when he said her name too?

"That's two recommendations. I think two more pairs of hands should bring the preps up to speed," said Takamura.

Makoto nodded.

"All right. I'll sign these two off to help out this afternoon. Tell them to be at the school gymnasium once classes are over," said Makoto.

* * *

Ren paused at what he was reading on his phone. He removed his earphones, which were playing _These Words_ from Natasha Bedingfield.

_Shiori: Got you the glorified gig of helping set-up the event dedicated to smooching Kamoshida's arse_

_Ren: Thanks…I think_

_Shiori: You'll have a helper with you, from our class_

_Ren: Who?_

_Shiori: Ann Takamaki_

Ren typed:

_Ren: Coincidence? _

_Shiori: That Mishima guy put her name forward. Have you seen those two talk?_

_Ren: As far as I've been aware, no_

_Ryuji: Mishima is part of the school volleyball team_

_Shiori: Dodgy_

* * *

 _Post-final period. At the school gymnasium. . ._

"Hello?" Ann called out.

No one answered. Ann tentatively stepped into the gymnasium. A few flyers hung lopsided, chairs and tables were strewn haphazardly around the place. A crate of volleyballs & basketballs was turned over, spilling the balls in the corner. Wow. What were the previous helpers doing that the gym was in this state?

"This will help Shiho keep her spot on the team. This is fine," Ann said to herself.

Ann dropped her bag at the bleacher. She leant forward, rolling out the volleyballs so the rack could lighten up enough for her to bring it back upright. Ann's cheeks twitched. They did that when something was wrong.

Ann looked back and jumped away, gasping. Kamoshida had been watching her from behind. He had that look she had seen a lot of men give her. Ann swallowed.

"You're doing the prep all on your own, Ann?" asked Kamoshida.

Ann was conscious of how alone she was with Kamoshida in the gym. The place was quiet. Most students in the school itself had already left for home.

"I was not expecting to be the only one here. Do you know where the others are?" asked Ann.

Kamoshida tilted his head side-to-side. Ann was starting to get the feeling that the absence of the other helpers, was by design.

"I'm not sure. But that means you'll be here for a while doing all this. Do you want me to give you a ride home? It's been dangerous lately, with all those reports on the news," said Kamoshida.

"Thank you for the offer, but it's fine really. I've got a modelling shoot and the agency said they'd drop me off once it's over," said Ann, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"You seem to get a lot of those," Kamoshida said quietly.

He got closer to Ann, who stopped breathing. The volleyball in Ann's hands trembled.

The boys' washroom door burst open. Out slid a frizzy-haired guy on his knees, like some British rockstar. Ren Amamiya held his phone like a mic, earphones on, eyes closed with a soulful expression.

" _Clever rhymes, see you later._

 _Theeeeeese words are-my-own._

 _From my heart flow!_

 _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!_ "

Perhaps a tad too corny to be like a British rockstar. Ann's jaw was dropped, stunned by how this guy just snapped the scary and chilling atmosphere from five seconds ago. Kamoshida looked furious at this pop-loving, cockblocking convict.

Ren still had not noticed them. He kept singing:

" _Read some Byron, Shelley and Keats._

 _Recited it over a hip-hop beat!_

 _I'm having trouble saying what I mean._

 _With dead poets. . ._ "

Ren opened his eyes and saw Kamoshida and Ann Takamaki. Sweet Jesus. How long had they been watching? The gym was empty earlier. Ren stood up, clearing his throat. He put his earphones away.

"Um. Hello," said Ren.

"What – are you doing here?" asked Kamoshida, coldly.

"I was sent by the student council to help out with the preparations for tomorrow's rally," Ren said matter-of-factly.

Ren noticed Ann. She was here. Wait, if the others weren't here when Ren arrived, and Kamoshida just happened to show up when Mishima requested her. . .Ann would have been all alone with the volleyball coach during this isolated hour.

 _Sleazy prick_ , thought Ren.

Kamoshida frowned, making a mental note to kick Mishima harder the next time they had 'special coaching' sessions. The coach explicitly told him to request Ann only from 2-D. Before Kamoshida left the gym, he warned Ren in a low voice; only the two of them could hear, "Next time you get in my way, I'll screw you over as I did to a past example you're already acquainted with."

Ren ignored him, which only pissed off the coach further. Kamoshida left. That left him alone with Ann.

"Let me help you with that," said Ren.

Ren turned the rack upwards facing. He started piling the volley/basketballs in.

From Ann's perspective, there was a halo of yellow glow on Ren's profile, thanks to the afternoon sunlight filtering in from the skylight. The dark circles under his eyes complimented the image. Ren looked like a broken angel to Ann. A beautiful – broken – now looking at her confused, angel.

"Something wrong?" asked Ren.

Ann noticed his eyes were out of focus and not quite directed at her, like she was Medusa or something.

"Nothing," Ann said quickly.

They piled the balls into the rack in silence. Every ten seconds, Ann would steal a peek at Ren, behind a volleyball. She never got to look at him like this before since he sat behind her in class. Ren paused at the last basketball. He looked to the basketball net on the other side of the court. Was he going to shoot all the way from here? Wondered Ann.

Ren bent his knees then clutch shot the ball. It went in. The corner of Ren's mouth curled. At least Shido did not take away his touch.

"Wow," said Ann.

"I was the basketball captain at my last school," explained Ren.

"Not going to try out for the one here?"

"Nah. Best if I keep my head down around here," said Ren.

"By singing at the top your lungs?" teased Ann.

Ren coughed.

"That was. . .an exception. I assure you, I don't usually scream the L-word like that," said Ren.

"I don't know, I thought it sounded pretty nice off your lips," she flirted.

Ren stilled.

 _Dare you to move. Dare you to say it,_ thought Ann.

"The way you say 'later'. You say it pretty nice hehe," said Ann.

Ann was toying with him the way a cat played with a mouse it just caught, thought Ren.

" _Later_. Huh. Guess you're right," said Ren, playing along.

They continued to fix up the place, chatting. Every few minutes, Ann would mindfuck Ren with wordplay.

* * *

Ren might as well floated into the ramen shop, with how lightheaded Ann left him. Words are potent. Shiori and Ryuji were already waiting for him.

"Hey dude. If you don't mind, I already ordered for ya," said Ryuji.

"Yeah, no problem," Ren said absentmindedly.

Ryuji and Shiori looked at Ren expectantly. Ren was muttering 'later' under his breath. That's how Ann bade him goodbye. 'Later'. Of all the words, she purposely chose the one which now had a different context between the two of them.

"Well?" Shiori asked, impatient.

"What?" asked Ren.

"Did you find out anything while preparin'? These helpers are on Kamoshida's team. Minus Ann, of course," said Ryuji.

"Nothing. Those guys didn't show up. And get a load of this. . ." Ren explained to the other two what happened.

Shiori whistled under her breath.

"What a cunning bastard," said Shiori.

"He is. Through and through," said Ryuji.

"What about you? Find anything on the computer?" Ren asked.

Shiori fiddled with the salt.

"Zilch. He's covered his tracks well. There were the obvious archives like-" Shiori nodded to Ryuji who snorted.

The track team incident.

"-but it seems no one has come forward about any complaint against Kamoshida. I didn't dare to ask any of the council members. At least not yet. Niijima-san was accounting for every strand of hair on my head when I was in that room. She's forcing me to be extra-careful there," Shiori said, annoyed.

Their ramen meals were set in front of them. Everyone started eating.

In-between bites, Ryuji said, "I guess it's time I fully explain to you guys - what happened last year."

Shiori had a waterfall of noodles falling from her mouth, so Ren said it for her, "If it bothers you too much to talk about it. . ."

"Nah it's fine. . ."

Ryuji laid out how it happened. Most of it was how Shiori and Ren had deducted.

". . .After they made me out to be the villain, they called my mother to school and verbally abused her for what I did. She took it all in silence, never even scolded me afterwards. I. . .I'll never forget the look on her face from that day," Ryuji ended his story in a slight choke.

". . ."

Shiori finally made it out of the noodles.

"How could they be so unprofessional? Fuck the school. And their fucking authority and administration! Fuck them all!" she spat.

"I never took you to dislike authority. Given your image at school," said Ryuji.

Shiori laughed sardonically.

"That's all just a persona. I used to be like that though. Kissing arses like a dog hoping for a treat after winning some award or whatever," said Shiori.

"The accident made you change?" asked Ren.

"More like, the recovery period. I mean after the accident I was still not too different. Traumatised. By what happened to me. . ." Shiori's voice became low. ". . .what happened to Mizuki. Anyway, during the recovery period, I met some guy who got me into a certain crowd. . .a scene. Met a lot of people who changed my horizons and perspective on a lot of things. Now here I am."

Ren thought about the tattoo Shiori had. It was that kind of scene?

"What was the accident like? I read the news clippings but it never mentioned your side," said Ryuji.

Shiori told them how she remembered it. Ren put his chopsticks down, feeling like his appetite was completely gone now.

"So that's why you wear the choker and that glove," said Ryuji; he sounded affrighted.

Shiori nodded.

They both looked at Ren.

Ren picked up his chopsticks, pretending to eat.

"Spill it, lad," said Shiori.

"Alright alright," said Ren; amused despite himself.

Ren recounted how he was on his way home from Kyoko's place. To hearing the disturbance. To seeing those two adults, the lady in trouble. How the rest of it played out.

Ryuji looked angry. Shiori was stunned.

"The hell man! How much shittier can that arsehole get?!" asked Ryuji.

Ren winced. He was louder than Shiori, some of the patrons cast curious glances at the students.

"Calm down," said Ren.

"Calm down? Shit dude. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't be able to calm down until I punch that dick in the face!" exclaimed Ryuji.

"He ruined your life, just like that. So you moved from your hometown to here. What did your friends make of it? That Kyoko girl you dated?" asked Shiori.

"Most of them stopped talking to me. Only two of the boys stayed real with me, right to end when I left. Kyoko. . .at first she was like 'I believe you, Ren.' Then the replies to messages stopped, then the answering of calls. . .it went all the way to her not even acknowledging that I existed," sighed Ren.

"How long were yous dating?" asked Ryuji.

"Two years."

"Oh wow, what a bitch," said Shiori.

"At first I was really torn up by her betrayal. After a while, I could not take it personally. Japan has this culture of extremes you know? Once you've got a criminal record, regardless of the charge or its context, a lot of pathways are closed off to you. I couldn't blame Kyoko's parents for not wanting her to be with someone with a record," said Ren.

"Yeah, but you guys were together for two years. That's a long time for a teen," said Ryuji.

 _It still hurts_ , thought Ren.

"We're more alike than I initially thought," Shiori said quietly.

"This is the longest conversation I've had with someone of my age since that week," said Ryuji in similar sobriety.

Ren knew how they felt. They were all carrying broken pieces from the past. Hands that bled from trying to hold the sharp shards together.

"We're going to be fine," Ren assured them.

Ryuji perked up.

"Hell yeah dude. I got you twos back from now on," said Ryuji.

"Ryuji's support. Yaaay," joked Shiori.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

 **GodOrf asked a question in the reviews, about whether there will be any romance between Shiori and Ren, despite the Ren x Ann thing. I was not quite sure how to answer this initially cuz I'm not really a fan of giving out spoilers (especially the sort which could be learnt by process of elimination). The best I can say is: pay attention to the dynamics between Joker and Comedienne. There's a hint in this chapter specifically.**

 **Also, I was happy to see more people reviewing this fanfiction. It's always nice to read what the readers are thinking. Feel free to do the same as they did, if you have any musings on the story.  
**


	8. Save File Not Found

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 **2:2 breathing technique. Two steps breathe in, two steps breathe out. Used by some athletes to substitute for a warm-up session.**

* * *

" _Questions of science._

 _Science and progress._

 _Do not speak as loud as my heart."_

Shiori secured her Audio-Technica headphones and leant back on the foldable chair, eyes to the skyline of Tokyo. Tall dark buildings in their cold artificial twinkling of night lights, stared back at Shiori. It was as if each individual speck of light was an eye of the great dark creature that was the country's capital.

How many people passed through the beast – what thoughts did they have in their daily commutes through it? What was their inner world as they commuted through the subways in the belly?

 _What is my inner world?_ Asked Shiori.

According to Morgana, only people with 'twisted hearts' had Palaces. It was a strange criterion to Shiori. What was the determinant for someone to be twisted? What is one society's sin to another?

Shiori remembered a news article she read a few years ago, about a ten-year-old, Afghan girl who was raped by the head of a mosque. The case was a 'landmark' progress as the girl was not punished by Sharia Law for committing adultery. When the little girl tried to follow her father after the trial, he would not even speak or look at her – because in his eyes, she was a sinner. Shiori cried when she read that part.

In Japan's society, it is the people who invalidate that girl that are twisted. Yet to those people, in their rigid and different way of thinking; if they were to see girls like Shiori, who were comfortable in exercising their sexuality, she would be the twisted one.

What a mad world.

Maybe she was looking at it the wrong way. Maybe the examples running in her head were too extreme. Maybe only the twisted ones were decided according to the standards of modernised countries, like Japan, Australia or Germany. Including the USA? There seemed to be interesting political drama there, from Shiori's perspective. American social media looked very divided on certain values.

Shiori opened the IM app on her Nokia. She selected the private conversation with Ren.

_Shiori: You awake? _

_Ren: Yes. _

_Shiori: What are you doing? _

_Ren: Trying out a house blend Sojiro taught me today. You? _

_Shiori: Musing on the cinema rooftop_

_Ren: About Kamoshida? _

_Shiori: Not exactly….well yes, but not exactly him_

_Shiori: It's about the Palace thing Morgana told us about_

_Ren: Ah. _

_Ren: Given what happened to Ryuji and other clues, I would take an educated guess that this guy is abusing the students in a certain way_

_Ren: Thus him being twisted = palace _

_Shiori: Ha. You make it so straightforward compared to how I was pondering it just now_

_Ren: How were you pondering it? :-) _

Shiori took a sip of tea. She typed:

_Shiori: If the world was full of insane people and there was only one sane person…this individual would be called mad and twisted by society. _

_Shiori: Would that loner be the one with a Palace? Or just everyone else? _

It was a few minutes before Ren replied.

_Ren: Before my grandmother passed away, she told me that those who hurt others, be it through action or the lack of it, were in a way hurting themselves equally. That many do not realise they are doing that to themselves. _

_Ren: She told me as a young man, this was how I could measure if what I was doing was wrong. _

_Ren: I've since done my best to live by her wisdom_

_Ren: In your example, I would choose that the ones who hurt others in extremes would have a Palace. It could be both parties or just one, depending on how it plays out_

_Shiori: You're saying Kamoshida is hurting himself but does not realise it? _

_Ren: . . .he's still a cunt, but yes, I think he is. _

_Ren: Maybe Palaces are a strange way to show that a person is mentally ill. Although I don't think 'cunt' is a clinical diagnosis in the field of psychology. _

_Shiori: XD _

* * *

 _The next day. Volleyball rally._

Ren washed his face at the sink. When he looked up, he saw Igor's face in the mirror, causing him to jump back in a gasp.

"I figured the next time I saw you, it would be in my dream like last time. Not the gymnasium washroom," said Ren.

Igor's eyes widened. The outside cheering from the rally faded to mute until the quietness was surreal in the washroom. A loud _drip_ from a loose tap punctuated the silence repeatedly.

"I thought I'd resume our conversation from our first meeting," said Igor.

"Your little dolls aren't here?" asked Ren.

Igor chuckled.

"No. They are. . .on an errand in another plane," said Igor.

Ren folded his arms.

"I have questions," said Ren.

"I have answers," said Igor.

Ren considered the person in the mirror.

"What are you?" asked Ren.

"A relic from a humble legend forgotten. In your tongue, 'a god' would be the closest description to defining our relativity," said Igor.

Ren touched the mirror. It felt solid. Like a normal mirror.

"How are you able to do this?" murmured Ren.

"The distortion from a metaverse and this room is at its weakest. On top of some tricks of my own, I am able to speak to you this way," said Igor.

"A metaverse? You mean you're in Kamoshida's castle right now?"

Something in Igor's eyes changed. He felt like the god was secretly laughing about something Ren did not know. What was it?

"No. I'm not in the Castle of Lust. I am in another's Palace," said Igor.

"There are other people with distorted hearts at Shujin?"

"Of course. Did you think Kamoshida was the only one? Your place of learning is not short of malice, rumour-mongering, hurt and trauma. There are quite a few with distortions. The same is true for the rest of the world," said Igor.

Igor had a point. Just now Ren overheard two guys discussing their chances with Ann, saying she was probably easy in 'opening her legs up for them' if they blackmailed her. Something about a plan to take photos the next time she got into the car with Kamoshida. It was one of the many examples of the terrible people in this school. And with how fucked the rest of the world was, Ren did not want to think of how there could be thousands of more Palaces on Earth. Maybe even millions.

"You seem troubled, Trickster," said Igor.

"Shouldn't I be? Just this week I've nearly died several times, had to kill sentient beings and now there's all this bullshit at school-" Ren paused, allowing himself to breathe.

"-you said something about 'ruin'. What was that about?" asked Ren.

Igor's form wavered in the mirror.

"Present situation at my side calls for me to leave soon. Your ruin, is as I said the last time. You will die if you do not thwart it," said Igor.

Ren folded his arms.

"And I'm to prevent it by 'changing my cognition'?"

"As well as making use of the genuine bonds you are forming. How do you like your new allies?" asked Igor.

Ryuji and Shiori. Ren had a feeling those two were not the only ones who were coming along for the crazy ride he was in.

"It's comforting not to face adversity alone," admitted Ren.

Igor's form wavered again.

"I'll leave you to this current enterprise you have against the lusty king. Also allow me the privilege to impart some advice, Trickster."

". . ."

"When your dealing with the lusty king has concluded, seek out a young shogi maestra. You might need to cross one more bridge to meet her, but when you do, you'll know I meant her. The last thing; there are numerous people who will be instrumental to influencing this path you walk. One of them stands out in _her_ capacity to save you. You played the white knight that damned you. If you give her a chance, you can be the one saved this time. Only if you give her the chance, Trickster."

"When will I see you again?" asked Ren.

"When we need to. It may be a long while until then. I bid you fair fortune."

Igor faded from the mirror.

The cheering from the gym returned, like some reality volume knob being turned slowly back to normal. Ren dried his hands and stepped out.

Everyone was in their P.E uniform. The teachers wore white. The students; red tracksuits over white vests. Shoes squeaked on the floor. Hands plopped the ball. Girls cheered loudly for Kamoshida. Most girls. Ann and Shiori were sitting bored, at their respective positions. Ann was on the seats with Kamoshida's personal cheerleader squad. Shiori was with Ryuji, both sitting against the wall. Ren joined those two.

At the side of the court was a table, set-up with two mics for the commentators. The school's speaker system was linked up, so basically no matter where you were in the school, the staff and students would be able to hear what was going on in the match. Makoto and a fellow student council member, Takamura, were commentating.

" _It's now Team Teachers' turn to serve,_ " said Takamura.

" _Yes, they've taken quite the lead now, haven't they?_ " said Makoto.

" _32-4. This is a thrashing. . ._ "

"This is boring," said Shiori.

"Heh. The principal had to order this event to stroke that guy's ego," said Ryuji.

Kamoshida spiked the ball to the opposite side. It went for Mishima who flinched and awkwardly fended the ball, grounding it to his side of the net. Point to the teacher's team. Mishima looked down at the court, downcast. The guy looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there in the game. Ren noticed Kamoshida low-key looking to Ann. Was he trying to show off to her?

Ann was idly twirling the end of her pigtail, staring absentminded into space. Shiori sighted a group of tall boys from the other side of the court. An excited breath escaped Shiori's mouth when she recognised the basketball captain, Kuro Okazaki among them.

". . .I'll join you lads, later," said Shiori, getting up.

"You're not going to help us ask around?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori pouted.

"Can't I 'play' a little before we start working? Don't worry, I'll sweet talk one of these losers into spilling the abuse. Let's see if your suave tact can match, Ryuji!" said Shiori, sticking her tongue out.

Shiori pranced over to Kuro and started chatting him up. The dark-haired captain seemed taken aback by the pretty girl who came over to talk to him. Ren saw Kuro's neck go red. Shiori was already getting to 'play' in charming him.

In the court, Kamoshida's posture briefly swayed. The volleyball coach was distracted by Shiori flirting with the boy.

"C'mon dude. We'll start now and work our way down the list. Better skip before it's the second year's turn," said Ryuji.

Ren and Ryuji got up.

"You memorised their faces, right? I'm new to the school so I'll need some pointers on where I can find the suspects," said Ren.

Kamoshida spiked again. Harder this time. The ball rocketed and slammed into Mishima's face, knocking the guy off his feet. The referee blew his whistle. The crowd hushed. Ren and Ryuji paused from their conversation.

Mishima looked dazed. Kamoshida noted that this got Ann's attention. Kamoshida suppressed a proud smirk and went over to Mishima, putting on a show of concern.

"Are you alright? That was my fault. Can someone call a nurse, please?" Kamoshida called out.

"Sensei's so graceful and kind."

"I know, right? It was that dweeb's fault for not blocking the ball. Tch! Amateur."

"I wanna get Kamoshida sensei's autograph after this."

And on and on went the crowd. The commentators were more formal.

" _It would seem Team Second-String has lost a player,_ " said Makoto.

" _Yes. Yuuki Mishima, from class 2-D. Will the match continue? Second-String is handicap by a man now,_ " said Takamura.

Two students came over and helped Mishima off to the nurse's office. Ren and Ryuji made to leave. Ryuji opened the exit door.

Kamoshida grabbed a spare mic from the commentators' table.

"How about a clash of two sports? I suggest the boys' basketball team plays against us," said Kamoshida, pointing to the corner where Kuro and his team were.

Shiori blinked several times. Just when she was warming Kuro up, they were interrupted. She even got the guy to the stage where Kuro was fighting not to stare at how Shiori would tug the neckline of her vest when remarking how hot it was!

 _This audacity of this jealous cunt_ , Shiori thought furious.

Kuro was not fazed by Kamoshida's challenge. In fact, he looked a bit amused.

"Sure. Why not?" said the deep-voiced captain.

"We're one member short," said one of his teammates.

"Eh? Where's Takao-kun?"

"Didn't his grandma die? He's at a funeral today."

"I swear, that's his fifth grandma since the sixth grade-"

Kamoshida frowned, interrupting them.

"That's fine! I know who can substitute for the last spot-"

Kamoshida turned around and pointed to Ren who was about to leave.

"-Ren Amamiya! Where's your friend, Ryuji?"

Ren froze.

Everyone in the gymnasium looked to Ren, the dodgy transfer student who was just caught trying to skip the rally. Ryuji heard everything from the outside and tried to get back in. Ren refused to let the door budge.

"What are you doing?" hissed Ryuji, through the gap.

In his best Metal-Gear-Solid-drama voice, Ren said, "The mission must go on. You go ask those students."

" _Dude_. That ex-Olympian is out to humiliate you. Because of yesterday. You know that, right?" asked Ryuji.

"Don't let my sacrifice be in vain," Ren said grimly.

"C'mon now! Don't keep us waiting!" commanded Kamoshida.

Ren closed the door. He took a deep breath and turned to everyone in the gym. Ren walked towards the court, rolling his shoulders.

Shiori swallowed. She realised the same thing as Ryuji and Ren. This was payback for Ren foiling Kamoshida's plot to force himself on Ann. Crap crap crap. Shiori did not want Ren to be downtrodden more than he already was going through right now.

 _Think Shiori!_ She thought.

The basketball boys were walking to the court. Shiori grabbed Kuro by the chest. Huh, he felt muscular.

"Look at me," said Shiori.

Kuro looked into her dark cyber violet eyes. Wow she is pretty, thought Kuro.

"You win this. . .and-" Shiori thumbed the corner of Kuro's mouth. Just briefly. It was enough to make on-lookers slack-jawed (exception with Makoto – she looked like she wanted to crack Shiori's skull with her mic).

"-maybe I'll be impressed enough to go out on that date you suggested. The two of us."

The rest of Kuro's crew heard that. In that moment, a survival instinct dating back to cavemen times kicked in.

"Alright boys, we doing this for Kuro!" Hollered the group's beta.

"Yeaaaah! The boysszzz!" Howled the others.

Kuro, the alpha, nodded. He was a simple man. Girl pretty. Win game. Win girl. While it was all crude and primal, it was an effective trait in team competitive sports. Shiori knew that herself, having pinned the group's dynamics in her few minutes with them.

The supercharged team joined Ren in the court. Kuro offered his hand to Ren. Ren shook it, matching Kuro's firm grip.

"I'm Kuro Okazaki."

"Ren Amamiya."

" _There has been an interesting turn of events, ladies and gentlemen. Kamoshida-sensei just challenged the starting line-up for Shujin's basketball team. Joining them is the new exchange student, Ren Amamiya,_ " said Takamura.

In the faculty office, Ms. Kawakami nearly choked on the apple she was eating. Ryuji himself was in the school corridor, walking determined to the next person to interrogate. The speakers throughout the school continued to relay:

" _Do you think. . .Team Basketball - shall we call them? Do you think Team Basketball will fair against Team Teachers, Takamura-san?_ "

" _We can only watch and see, Niijima-san. Team Teachers has the advantage of having an Olympic gold medallist on their team, and Kamoshida-sensei is also experienced in volleyball. Team Basketball looks to be in the zone. . ._ "

Ren unzipped his tracksuit jacket and tossed it courtside, without breaking his gaze from Kamoshida. Ren did not notice Ann catch his jacket. Contrary to the earlier minutes, Ann was now attentive on the rally match.

Kuro could tell the exchange student had changed his breathing pattern already, doing the 2:2. Was Amamiya experienced in sports?

"What's the plan, Kuro? Kamoshida knows volleyball better than us," asked a teammate.

"Hmph. We observe and adapt," said Kuro.

"Yosh!"

" _Team Teachers has been given the first serve, aaaaand. . .ooh! That's a spike from Kamoshida!_ "

" _Team Basketball were caught out of their depth there. Looks like Team Teachers takes an early lead. . ._ "

This arsehole, thought Ren.

That spike was supposed to aim for Ren, but the angle accidentally diverted to the guy behind Ren, after ball brushed by the edge of the net. The next one would not be misplaced. Wait. Kamoshida wanted to spike at Ren, like he did to Mishima. That's it.

Before Team Teachers did their next serve, Ren straightened up and said delinquently, "Hoh boy. I'm so bored already. Sucks that I have to play against all these _old_ teachers. I bet all of you could fart harder than that spike."

Collective gasps swept the gym. This transfer student was so vulgar and disrespectful! They all thought.

Ann giggled, then stopped herself half-heartedly. Kamoshida saw that. Ren saw him get angrier. Good. Get tilted, bitch.

" _So uhh. . .Amamiya just taunted Team Teachers saying that they could probably fart harder than the spike Kamoshida just made – oh what? I'm not supposed to say anything inappropriate into the mic, Niijima-san? Oh shit – I mean. . .uhh oh snap. Sorry! Sorry! . . ."_

Shiori understood what Ren was doing.

Shiori plopped herself on the seat next to Ann, making sure she too was in Kamoshida's view.

Ren bent his knees. Now came the harder part of his plan. If Ren screwed even one of these parts up, he'd end up looking like a moron.

The spike came. Ren did not waste trying to contest such a comet from an ex-Olympian. Instead he. . .

Ren dodged the ball. The referee blew the whistle. Point to Team Teacher.

"What are you doing? You should have-" one of Ren's teammates began.

"Wait, Kaoru. Haven't you noticed? He's fixated on Amamiya," said Kuro.

Ren yawned and scratched his belly.

"Volleyball's kinda dumb. Why does this school like it so much? My last school would only get this excited for drugs. Fun times-" Ren laughed. "-ah but well. I guess the geezers can't touch me while I'm forced to be here," said Ren.

The arrogant smirk Ren wore was driving Kamoshida nuts. A vein was now popping on his forehead.

"Toss the ball to me, again!" said Kamoshida to his colleagues, his spittle landing on some of them.

Same routine. Kamoshida would spike at Ren. Ren would dodge. Say another thing that would needle Kamoshida. Sometimes it would be morbid enough to make Ann laugh. After giving away ten points to Team Teachers, Kuro instructed two of the teammates:

"Concentrate support around Amamiya. All three of you are going to try to counter that spike. Kamoshida has been tilted out of his game now, we just have to outplay the rest of his team with speed."

Again, Kamoshida desperately spiked at Ren. This time, three pairs of arms were ready to cover all the bases at where Ren stood.

The crowd gasped.

" _Whoa. It looks like Team Basketball just. . .countered Kamoshida sensei's mean spike, something which everyone once thought was unblockable_."

" _Okazaki serves it up and. . .point to Team Basketball!_ "

Game match point was now locked already, Shiori realised.

Kamoshida's teammates were looking uneasy, shaken by how the coach kept trying to spike at Ren, who was giving theatre drama levels of acting bored when dealing with them. The rest of Ren's teammates, who were more fit and agile than most of Team Teachers, took advantage of the opponent team's collapse and quickly evened, then outpaced the scores.

At the final serve of the game, Shiori teased Kamoshida's fangirls, "Why aren't you cheering for your precious Kamoshida? Want me to do it instead for you all?"

Like pushing a button on mindless robots, the girls leapt to their feet, squealing and cheering their support for Kamoshida's next move. The pressure mounted the volleyball coach.

"Hey Suguru, maybe we should play-" one of the teachers began.

"Shut up!" fumed Kamoshida.

And again, Kamoshida ended up spiking to Ren. This time the other two did not need to help Ren. Kamoshida's form was ruined, the spike was slobby. Ren countered the spike on his own, propping it up to Kuro, who jumped to receive it.

But Kamoshida was ready for that; he also jumped to smack back the ball from Kuro's spike. Ren's eyes widened. This form Kuro had. . .Ren's body moved on its own.

Kuro smiled, seeing that Ren was on the same frequency as him. It was from a different sport - basketball, but the basic mechanics of the alley-oop still worked here. Kuro propped the ball to Ren who was already in the air.

Nobody from the other side expected the spike from Ren. It all happened so fast. The ball made a loud _thud_ at Team Teachers' side of the court. Ren and Kuro landed.

The referee blew the whistle, declaring Team Basketball the winner.

The entire gymnasium was quiet. Stunned by how a delinquent and a basketball team just won against Kamoshida.

#

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about? Kamoshida trains us hard because he has high expectations. This is a sports injury," said the fourth volleyball player Ryuji interrogated.

Ryuji inwardly cursed. The last ones sang a similar song.

Static blared from the school speakers. Then the sound of rummage.

" _Shiori, what are you doi –_ " Makoto's voice.

" _Relaaax prez. I'll announce the match results. You should take a break, maybe go talk to Kuro, he thinks you're cute_. _Tee-hee!_ "

That was Shiori, realised Ryuji.

"Oh my. . ."

"There's a thing going on between Niijima-senpai and Kuro-senpai?!"

"They'd make such a cute couple nyaa!"

" _Ladies and gents. To announce the results of the latest volleyball match. Team Basketball has_ _ **easily**_ _beaten Team Teachers with a 3-1 set advantage!"_

A ripple of surprise swept the school corridors. Ryuji's jaw dropped.

"Hang on, the volleyball coach was on Team Teachers. The basketball team beat him?"

"Eh? Isn't Kamoshida supposed to be good at volleyball?"

"No way. There had to be foul play."

Ryuji scowled.

"You think a volleyball rally meant for suckin' Kamoshida's dick, would have referees biased against his team?" Ryuji snapped at the guy who cried foul.

#

"You've played basketball before, haven't you?" Kuro asked Ren.

"What gave it away?"

"Your stance. It's how a point guard advances. Nobody stands like that for volleyball," said Kuro.

Ren scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Why don't you try out for the team? We could always use more guys like you. That alley-oop follow-up was too good," said Kuro.

Ren glanced to Kamoshida's direction. The coach was on damage control with his ego, assuring the people around him. Or more like, sucking up assurances from them. Kamoshida's eyes met Ren's. If looks could kill, Ren would have died a hundred times on the spot.

"Thanks. But I think it's best I stay in the shadows for now. You guys be careful, alright? Don't become the next track team," said Ren.

Kuro nodded, understanding where Ren was coming from on the caution. Ren tried to locate his jacket. It was not there. Funny. He won the match, but lost his P.E jacket.

"Duuude, that was _sick_ ," said Shiori holding out a high five.

Ren fived back.

"Hey Shiori," said Kuro.

Ren cleared his throat.

"I'll leave you two be. Catch you later, Shiori. I'll find Ryuji about that thing," said Ren.

"Shiori!" growled someone.

A girl with short hair and red eyes joined them. Who is she? Wondered Ren.

"Hey Makoto. Have you met Kuro?" Shiori asked cheerily.

The class president was more impressive than Ren anticipated. Despite her earlier ebullition, there was an air of sophisticated refinement around Makoto.

" _Cute?_ Really? You think the council is running some prissy tabloid-"

"You think she's cute, right Kuro?" said Shiori.

Kuro panicked. Should he say yes, and risk losing the date with Shiori? Or risk insulting the president in her face? Ren left the gym, shaking his head in amusement. Poor guy was entangled in the mind games and politics between Shiori and Makoto.

#

Ann managed to locate Ren by the vending machines. He was with Ryuji and Shiori. She had his P.E jacket in her hands. Ann was about to go over to give his jacket back when her iPhone rang. Caller ID read 'Kamoshida'. Ann's throat seized up. Crap, what did he want now?

"Hello," Ann answered - nervous.

Ann's face went from anxiety to a look of horror. She clamped a hand to her mouth, shocked. Ann looked at Ren, the boy who was seen unstable and a criminal by the entire school. Ren was smiling, saying something to Shiori and Ryuji.

"I. . .can't do that to him!" she said.

"This is the ultimatum. Shiho is relying heavily on that sports scholarship for college. You don't do either of these things, I'm kicking her off the team with a bad reputation," said Kamoshida's cold voice.

The line clicked dead.

Tears stung Ann's eyes. This was so unfair! Just when she found something that didn't make her feel like life was empty, this had to happen! Ann backtracked out of the courtyard and escaped to the girls' washroom, before anyone saw her breaking down.

#

Ren found Ryuji by the vending machines at the school's courtyard. The blonde looked dejected on the bench.

"Didn't go well?" asked Ren.

"Almost cracked the last one. He was a first-year," groaned Ryuji.

"I hope you didn't exhaust the whole list."

"There's one guy left. He's in your class. Yuuki Mishima," said Ryuji.

"That sob who got spiked this morning? He would be in the nurse's office right now," said Ren.

"Hey Shiori," said Ryuji.

Shiori flashed her eyebrows in greeting; yawning.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

Ryuji explained it to her.

"Jeez."

"Why can't we just do, what normal people would do in this situation?" suggested Ren.

Shiori tapped her Nokia on the vending machine. The NFC transaction went through. An energy drink can popped at the dispenser.

"Meaning?" asked Ryuji.

"He's suggesting we tell the police, or report Kamoshida to the school," said Shiori.

Ryuji snorted.

"I'm surprised you have that much faith left in the authorities and adults, after what they did to you," said Ryuji.

". . ."

"I'm hesitant about that. There must be a twist to Kamoshida's complicity, which would explain why he has not been arrested or fired yet," said Shiori.

"This raises an obvious question though. What do we do if we can't get anyone to come forward for a confession?" asked Ryuji.

"Maybe we head back to the castle, and punish the king," joked Ren.

"There you are! Do you know how hard it was to track you guys?"

 _Hmm?_ thought Ren.

"Who said that?" asked Shiori.

"Wasn't me," said Ryuji.

Ren shook his head. Shiori shrugged, taking a sip from the can.

A black cat with a yellow collar leapt onto Shiori's lap.

"I'm calling in on that favour you promised me, Ren," said the cat.

Shiori nearly spewed out in surprise.

"Did. . .that thing just talk?" whispered Ryuji.

"I'm not a thing! It's me! Morgana!" yowled the cat.

"Are you hearing this?! Why is that cat talking English?!" freaked out Ryuji.

"Meow?" said Ren.

"Meow-meow, meooow," Shiori said in a 'duh' tone.

"Arrrrck! Oh my lord, the cat is talking like a human a-a-and the humans are all meowing? I've totally lost it!" panicked Ryuji.

"Is that really you, Morgana?" asked Shiori.

Ryuji looked Ren and Shiori confused, then annoyed.

"What the hell? This ain't the time to be joking around yo," said Ryuji.

"Your fault for being dumb enough to fall for it," said Morgana.

"Aww shuddup. Wait. . .that arrogance. This is definitely Morgana," said Ryuji.

 _Hmm?_

Something made Ren tear his attention from the situation in front of him. Ren saw a flash of blonde hair by the courtyard exit. Was that Ann? Ren saw the school's counsellor and groundskeeper enter the courtyard.

"I can't believe there's a stray cat around here. Why am I here looking for it? What if it bites me?" complained the counsellor.

"I'm allergic to cats. You're making me sneeze so stop being a pussy," said the groundskeeper.

"Better hide, Morgana," said Ren.

Ryuji picked up Morgana. Morgana ran in the air, indignant at being cat-handled.

"What are you doing!?" wrawled Morgana.

Ryuji stuffed Morgana into Ren's bag.

"Huh? Did you just hear a loud meow?"

They all tensed up when the councillor looked in their direction. Morgana was thankfully not writhing in the bag.

"Never mind, let's check someplace else."

Shiori waited until they were gone then said, "School's about to end. We should probably get on Mishima's case now. I bet he's at the infirmary. This time, I'll be the one asking questions."

#

The nurse was not in. Only one bed was taken with Mishima resting on it. Ren nodded to Ryuji who went out the door and stood sentinel in case anybody came in.

"Scram it," Ryuji said thuggishly, when a student got too near to the door. Those students scurried away scared.

Mishima woke up to Shiori and Ren drawing the curtains around his bed, obscuring the three of them from any outside view.

"Gah! W-what are you doing?" yelped Mishima; he tried to get up.

Shiori leapt onto the bed and pinned Mishima back down. She clamped one hand over Mishima's mouth. Fear in his eyes. Boner in his pants. This was the closest a girl had touched Mishima there, in his entire life.

"Don't make a ruckus," warned Shiori.

Ren pushed up his glasses, the lenses fully catching the reflective light.

"We have some questions to ask you, Mishima. It would be. . .healthy for you to cooperate," said Ren.

Mishima nodded, breathing heavily. Shiori unclamped his mouth. She raised one finger up to him.

"First question-" she began softly, "-how did you get those bruises and injuries?"

Ren reached into his pocket and flicked the empty can Shiori gave him. It made a clicky noise. Mishima's eyes widened, recalling the rumours that the new transfer kid walked around with a switchblade. Mishima swallowed.

"Kamoshida did it. He. . .he likes to take me aside to the corner, and smack me around. Please don't tell anyone this," whispered Mishima.

"Why?" asked Ren.

"B-b-because it helps him calm down I think. Like a weekly venting or something," stammered Mishima.

Ren and Shiori looked at each other.

Shiori raised a second finger.

"Are the other volleyball players getting abused the same way?" asked Shiori.

"Yes. I mean, it's not unique like mine. Theirs is corporal punishment and the occasional pimping," said Mishima.

"Pimping? He's renting the girls'?" spluttered Ren.

Mishima averted his eyes. There was genuine pain there.

"No. It's the guys. He sends to them to the apartments of his old buddies from the Olympic team, down at the harbour-side. They used to take advantage of the local poverty boys, when the tournaments were held in poorer countries. When it was all over, and they all came back to Japan-" Mishima choked "-I guess they still needed the fix."

 _This is. . .worse than I imagined_ , thought Ren.

Shiori's face was blank. She was hiding her true feelings about this, Ren could tell. Shiori raised the third finger.

"Let's get to the obvious one then. Why has no one come forward to tell the teachers? The parents?" asked Shiori.

Mishima was quiet.

"Answer the question," Ren said with a hint of steel in his voice.

"They know," Mishima said in a small voice.

Shiori frowned.

"What?" she said.

"They already know about the abuse. The parents, the principal, they know _all of it_. But the credits of winning the national heats, the prestige it brings to the school, makes them tolerate it all. It is pointless what you guys are trying. You can't beat Kamoshida," whispered Mishima.

A curtain slid open. It was Ryuji.

"Hey! I spot the nurse on her way back here," said Ryuji.

Ren and Shiori looked very unsettled to Ryuji. What did Mishima say to them?

#

"Are you shitting me?!" stomped Ryuji.

The three of them, plus Morgana, were at the school rooftop.

"There's your twist, Shiori," sighed Ren.

Shiori sat against the wall, legs tucked in and hugging. Her eyes were out of focus at the ground.

"This is so unbelievable. Even their parents know about the abuse? About the pimping?! And they tolerate it for a bunch of shiny trophies?! Bullshit!" cursed Ryuji.

Morgana licked his paws, seemingly unperturbed by Ryuji's rage. Ren remembered the cat saying something about calling in a favour he promised to the feline. What did Morgana want?

"I. . .can't believe how our efforts came to naught," said Ryuji; he sounded deflated now. Despaired.

Ren knew how much this meant to Ryuji. Kamoshida destroyed his life and reputation, chances for a sports scholarship, and took his track team to hell before it all shattered. Saving the volleyball team was a way of seeking closure. A kind of redemption for failing to save his track team.

 _To feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. To buckle down when you're too weak to do anything for it,_ thought Shiori.

"You guys aren't completely out of options. Ren made a good suggestion earlier while," said Morgana.

"Huh? What was that?" asked Ryuji.

"The king. Punish the king," said Morgana.

"I was joking about that. How does beating up Shadow Kamoshida solve the issues here? When Shiori scarred him with her pen, the one here was untouched. At least, on the outside," said Ren.

"Not beating him up. Stealing the Palace's treasure," declared Morgana.

Ryuji blinked.

"You mean the castle's gold?" asked Ryuji.

Morgana's tail twitched.

"No. . ." Morgana sighed, "Remember when I said that these Palaces are a manifestation of a twisted heart?"

"Yeah," said Ryuji.

"What does every heart have – which would symbolically manifest as a 'treasure'?" asked Morgana.

"The thing it cherishes the most," said Ren.

Shiori's violet eyes flickered at Ren's words. She still had not said a word since they got up here.

"Correct. And during my rogueries in his castle, I started to map out the place. Everything, from the library, to the ballroom. I even know where the Treasure Room is. It's heavily guarded, but it's there alright," said Morgana.

"What happens if we steal the treasure?" asked Ryuji.

Morgana carefully chose his words.

". . .the Palace ruler undergoes a 'change of heart'. All twisted desires which anchor to it, leaves with the Treasure when you take it out of the Palace. Kamoshida will become an honest man. And honest men, in this crime and punishment world you humans have built, submit themselves to the authorities. Confession of crimes, the wish to be punished, you get the picture. The best part of all this? Nobody will be able to connect you guys to it when it all goes down in the real world," said Morgana.

"Just like that?" asked Ryuji.

"If you can steal his Treasure, yes," said Morgana; the cat looked hesitant however.

Ren folded his arms.

"There's more to this, isn't there?" asked Ren.

"Yes. Twisted desires aren't exclusive to being tied to one's Treasure. All desires are. And desires are what clockworks a person to live life. Even if you're in the Freudian camp in believing that it all roots from sex and our parental relations, desires define us. To work, to eat, to love, everything. Taking away a Treasure means you're resetting their desires. In the worst case scenario, they might lose the will to live and die," said Morgana.

Distant chatter and traffic noise filled the next two minutes. Die? As in they could possibly kill Kamoshida if they went with this? Ren looked at his hands. He felt the cool wind on his palms. Was he that kind of person, to murder a fellow human? No. He could not be. It was. . .it was the wrong thing to do. . .

"I hate Kamoshida as much as the next guy, but to risk becoming a killer over this shit. . .I don't think I'd want that," said Ryuji.

"I would not mind," rasped Shiori.

Shiori got up, clearing her throat.

"Do you know what you're sayin'? This is actual murder you're talking about, Shiori," said Ryuji.

"Yeah? And what about all those knights you killed on the boat, Ryuji? That was not murder? Or is it that we're a bunch of anime heroes in a video game and ethics don't apply to cannon fodder?" scoffed Shiori.

Ren turned away from the others, so they would not see his face. A murderer. . .

 _Who am I kidding?_ Ren thought, trying to suppress a burst of maniacal laughter. Ren gripped the meshed fence, looking out to Tokyo city. Not a day went by where he did not dream of ending Masayoshi Shido in extraordinary ways. Now - a series of dominos were conveniently placed in front of Ren to destroy the politician in the most perfect way possible. These powers, these methods. . .Ren could get Shido to confess everything he did, destroying his political career. If the change of heart accidentally killed him. . .well, that would be icing on the cake.

"I-I. . ." Ryuji looked like he was lost for words.

"Ren?" asked Shiori.

Ren turned back to them, wearing a poker face. Shiori narrowed her eyes.

"Putting ethics aside, there is the consideration of the mortal danger we would be in. Sure, there are four of us with powers this time. But our last visit to Kamoshida's castle was near-fatal. We got very very lucky with Eligor. The element of surprise was on our side the first-time. The second time we were there, they were ready. Most of us were injured and battered, and they didn't even engage us with a full force. This Incubus sounds like a very dangerous opponent. Princess Ann is too. Let's not forget Shadow Kamoshida himself. Something tells me the king is more lethal than he lets show," said Ren.

Ren recalled Princess Ann's promise to kill him if he showed up again. That was the raw deal.

"If we are going to steal Kamoshida's heart, it is not his life we should fear for. It's our own. Despite everything that has happened to us, we all still have something worth living for. Going with this plan, means that _everyone_ , is willing to put their life on the line. Shiori was onto a point. This isn't a video game where we can restart from a 'Game Over' screen by loading a save file. One of us dies, it's permanent," said Ren.

Ryuji's phone beeped; he pulled out his phone and saw a message from his mother saying she was treating them out to dinner out tonight. These outings were always a rare and precious thing for the two of them. If mum were to lose her only son, her only family. . .Ryuji closed his eyes, swallowing.

"Well Shiori? Still feeling so badass you wanna steal the Treasure?" asked Ren.

There was an undertone of taunting in Ren's voice. This was a new dynamic in the group, Morgana observed. Ren had previously shown sincere regard to Shiori in the castle. Here, Ren was challenging Shiori in a subtle way. Shiori noticed it herself.

 _What just went through your mind, that you're willing to push me away like this, Ren?_ Shiori thought, watching Ren intently. She could not deconstruct a clue out of the group's leader.

Ren took her silence for indecision.

"This is a decision none of us can make lightly or immediately. Sleep on it. Take your time to think it over. I will not hold it against you for not wanting to do this. There is no shame in valuing yourself. Loving yourself is the realest thing you'll find in this world," Ren said quietly.

* * *

 **The article Shiori read is a real one. I'd link it here but for some reason, fanfiction doesn't like them in the body submission. Try keywords '10-Year-Old Afghan Girl Landmark Case'.**

 **Someone in the reviews asked about my gender. To which I say, I am a dude :) Writing this chapter I think a full blown sex scene is going to show up sooner than I anticipated so I guess I better start prepping to write that. Maybe not the next chapter (although I'm not that sure) but it will be soon. Thanks for reading and sticking this far with the fanfic.**


	9. Death Arcana

**Molly: Female cat.**

 **Kinokuniya:** **Japanese bookstore chain (with international branches)  
**

* * *

"Why am I in your bag again?" asked Morgana.

Ren stepped out the train in Yongen-Jaya station. He could hear the rain outside. Good thing he had his umbrella on him, lest the cat got wet too. Ren's school-bag felt heavier with Morgana inside, but manageable. The body warmth of the cat radiated against Ren's back.

"I'm assuming you don't have a five-star cattery to stay at, so Shiori and I will be sharing the responsibility of your hospitality. Also, I'm going into Kamoshida's Palace with you. We have a few things to discuss," said Ren.

Ren stepped into the back alleys, his clear umbrella to the grey sky. Unseen lightning flashed, a soft temperance compared to the last dramatic visit to the castle.

"Wait, but you just told your friends they should think about stealing his Treasure. It even felt like you were discouraging them from going," said Morgana.

"I did. I meant every word of it too. This is dangerous," said Ren.

Ren paused outside Café Leblanc. It was convenient Shiori was held back by student council duties.

"It's just. . .I'm not doing this for the volleyball team, even though this will save them. Since my reasons are selfish, I don't want Ryuji and Shiori to risk their lives like that for me," said Ren.

Ren entered the café, the familiar aromas wafting; dark roast blends, old wood, spice and. . . _hmm, what's this new perfume_? Thought Ren.

"Good, you're here. Ren can walk you back to the clinic with his umbrella, Takemi-san," said Sojiro.

There was only one patron in the café. A woman in her mid-twenties sat by the counter with a coffee. She had a blue mussy bob cut which fell in blunt bangs. Ren noticed she wore a choker like Shiori - only this woman's choker had chrome studs on it, while Shiori's was void with black. A vintage black jacket over a blue dress and spider-web stockings over legs – _Those legs! Wow!_ Thought Ren.

Ren took guessed this was 'Takemi-san'.

"You sure? I'd hate to impede," said Takemi.

"It's fine. Besides it would do no good for Yongen-Jaya's resident doctor to become sick from this rain," said Sojiro.

"I'll just drop my bag upstairs then come back down with the umbrella," said Ren.

Takemi nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks," she said to Ren.

X

"Thanks for the coffee. It was delicious," said Takemi.

"Anytime," said Sojiro.

Takemi joined Ren outside, under the umbrella. Ren realised his umbrella was not perfectly big for two people, making Takemi stand quite close to Ren. The older woman did not show the slightest unhinge to the proximity. She was probably used to being moved by more serious matters, like dead bodies in a morgue rather than some hormone raging teenage boy.

"Sojiro told me you're new around here. Don't worry, I'll guide you to the clinic," she assured him.

They took a couple of turns. Upon arriving, Ren saw Yongen-Jaya's local medical centre was a humble abode, but not too bad. There was some graffiti by the entrance though.

"Thank you. . .Ren. Is it alright if I call you that?" asked Takemi.

"I don't mind."

Returning back, Ren had a feeling he'd be seeing her again. He wondered what her story was. A goth being the resident doctor around here must have interesting reasons.

X

"Mind explaining to me what this is about?" asked Sojiro.

'this' referred to Morgana, who was sitting in Ren's room with Sojiro looking down at it, arms folded. Ren had just returned from dropping off Takemi.

"I thought I heard meowing upstairs when you left. Thought I was imagining things. Came up here and I actually find a cat," said Sojiro.

"I found it abandoned by its owners. In the rain, alone," lied Ren.

"And that made you want to take it in?"

". . ."

Sojiro sighed.

"Have you fed it?"

"I haven't," said Ren.

"Tsk tsk. What kind of irresponsible guy are you? Wait here," said Sojiro.

Sojiro returned five minutes later with a plate of food for Morgana. Morgana purred and started to nibble.

"Look at the poor guy, he must have been starving," said Sojiro.

"Wait, I can keep him?"

"Yes. But he's your responsibility. You're feeding and cleaning him. Also, I'm in the restaurant business so I don't need my customers to know there's an animal living here. If you're going in or out with him, keep the feline in your bag when you're down there. . .also, I get to name the cat," said Sojiro.

 _That cat already has a name. It's Morgana,_ thought Ren, but he decided to appease Sojiro on this one.

"Fernando. Yes…" Sojiro nodded proudly "…that's a good name, right?"

Ren did his best to keep a straight face.

"It is," said Ren.

Later that night, Morgana said to Ren at 7 PM, "Hey, you should go to bed."

"Shut up, Fernando."

* * *

 _Next day._

"You know there's no other way. Stealing Kamoshida's heart is your only hope of stopping him," Morgana said to Ren.

Ren sat on his bed, lacing his shoes.

"Let's put Kamoshida aside for now. What do you need me to help you with the Castle? The three of us have business there because it's pretty much the school we go to. But you? What's there do to precisely?" asked Ren.

"Just a place near the Treasure Room. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but I've managed to localise that an instrumental clue to my past is there. The main problem is, it's heavily guarded. I've tested out possible sneaking routes in, but there are none. That only leaves brute force," said Morgana.

Ren folded his arms.

"Advantage by numbers. That means you don't want it to be the two of us. You also need Shiori and Ryuji to get you in that room," said Ren.

"You need that too. Stealing the Treasure Room with just the two of us is going to be near impossible. What if Princess Ann finds you?" asked Morgana.

Ren slung up his bag, sighing. Morgana had a point.

"You wanna come with, to school?" asked Ren.

Morgana climbed onto Ren and dived into his bag.

"Just drop me off outside. There's a white Molly I saw in the neighbourhood yesterday. She was fiiiiiiine yo," purred Morgana.

This cat was possibly Sojiro's spirit animal.

* * *

Ann and Shiho sat on the bench in the alcove of the school courtyard. Classes were just about over. Students milled to clubrooms or leaving.

"That's a terrible bruise above your eye. Is training really that tough, Shiho?"

Shiho was looking downcast at the ground. Ann had come to realise that her best friend had become dispirited for weeks now. The excited, bluntly honest girl who first acquainted with Ann last year, was barely there. This made Ann worried.

"It is, I guess," said Shiho.

"Are you sure you don't need a break from the team or something?" asked Ann.

"No. It's fine. Volleyball's all I'm good at anyway. Without it, I'm nothing," said Shiho.

Ann squeezed Shiho's hand.

"That's not true, Shiho. You as a person, as my best friend, mean more to me than all the sports teams this school has," said Ann.

Shiho smiled at Ann, but it was a bit forced, out of focus. Ann's phone began to ring. It continued to buzz but Ann did not answer.

"Aren't you going to take that?" asked Shiho.

"It's probably just my part-time job," said Ann, nonchalant.

"I see. . .well I should be heading off to practice," said Shiho, getting up.

"Are you. . .sure you're okay, Shiho?" Ann pressed again.

"I'm fine."

Shiho left.

Ann's phone was still ringing.

"Hello? . . .No I have not. I know but. . .I understand. . .I'll do it today. Bye," Ann ended the call, feeling sick in her stomach. How she hated _him_.

#

_Shiori: You go on ahead home, Ren. Student council duties call -.- _

_Ren: Try not to fight with Makoto _

_Shiori: Pfft. Taking the Devil's side, I see _

_Ryuji: This is really frustrating _

_Ryuji: I want to do something about Kamoshida, but what Morgana suggested is too risky_

_Ryuji: At this rate, we might have to go to him directly for a confession _

_Ren: Morgana still thinks his proposition is ideal _

_Ryuji: Where is he anyway? _

_Ren: Chilling out in the alleys of Yongen-Jaya. I thought about bringing him to school with me in my bag, but that would be weird. . .and risky_

_Ryuji: Heh _

_Ryuji: You got any ideas about what to do? _

Someone knocked the BlackBerry out of Ren's hand. It clattered to the floor. Ren winced, hoping the screen was not cracked.

"Huh? Oh it's that crook from 2-D," said the student who bumped into Ren.

"Shit. Let's get out before he loses it."

"Yeah, I bet he's one of those types who go insane like with the mental shutdowns haha."

The other boys laughed, walking on.

Ren inwardly sighed. When he looked to the spot where his phone was supposed to be, it was not there. Instead a girl stood, holding it out to Ren after wiping a bit of floor dust off with her hankie.

"You okay?" she asked Ren.

Ren took his phone, noting the scars on her hand. She also had a nasty bruise swelling above her eye. Ouch.

"Thanks. Yeah, I'm alright," said Ren.

"You're that new transfer student from 2-D, right?" she asked him.

Her voice registered familiar to Ren.

". . .yes. I am," said Ren.

The girl bit her lip.

"Perhaps. . .it's not my place to say this. But please don't let the rumours and bullying get to you," she said.

Ren was taken-aback by her compassion. It was so rare for the students to treat him like this, save for Ryuji and Shiori.

"Umm. . .thank you. The rumours don't affront me, so I'm doing okay," said Ren.

"That's good to hear."

"If you don't mind me asking. . .why. . .?" asked Ren.

Shiho smiled sadly at him.

"My best friend is subjected to similar treatment. A lot of people ostracise her because of her appearance. . . jealousy also fuels the malicious rumours about her. I guess I see a bit of her in you," she said.

 _This is Shiho. Ann's friend at the café from that day_ , realised Ren.

Shiho's phone beeped. Ren noticed her face got anxious when glancing at the screen.

"I have to go to practice. It was nice meeting you," said Shiho.

"Likewise."

As Ren stepped off the steps of Shujin Academy, he was not aware that a nervous Ann Takamaki was trailing him.

* * *

A droplet fell on Ren's nose.

 _Again? It's not supposed to rain today_ , thought Ren.

Ren was at Shibuya's Railway Square. He did not have his umbrella on him and the sky looked a dark kind of grey, indecisive of when it should start raining. Should Ren risk it? He wanted to stop by Kinokuniya to pick up a paperback of _1Q84_.

Ren went for it. He fast-paced to the main street of Shibuya's shopping district and found the bookstore, a woody quiet shop with shelves of millions of words and thousands of minds, ready to acquaint with Ren's inner world.

From a window, Ren saw a downpour began. Great. Sojiro was not going to be happy with him being late tonight. Oh well, might as well take his time browsing. Ren picked up the Murakami book he wanted. He idly judged the other books by their covers, occasionally checking one out, if the cover and title had an interesting chemistry. Ren turned to an intersection by the shelves, his attention on a blurb, when someone walked into him; something _soft_ bumped against his chest.

 _Hmm?_

It was her.

"Hey! Are you following me?" asked Ann.

Ren placed Prosper Mérimée's _Carmen_ back onto the shelf.

"No. You haven't given me a good reason to," said Ren.

"Oh?"

Ann pouted at him. Ren was enjoying turning Ann's own game back against her. Ren checked the windows again. It was still raining. Ann tracked his gaze.

"You're taking shelter here?" asked Ann.

"Yeah. Kinda sucks cuz my guardian is going to be mad if I'm late. Showers don't look like it's going to let up anytime soon," said Ren.

Ann unzipped her bag and pulled out a pocket umbrella.

"I usually keep a spare in case I see a homeless person in the rain, without one," explained Ann.

Ann held out the umbrella to Ren.

"You can borrow this one."

". . .thanks."

Ren reached out to take the umbrella, but it was snatched back by Ann. She swapped hands, holding a finger like a cannon aimed between his eyes.

"But. . ."

 _Here we go_.

". . .I need you to. . .to. . ." Ann's expression faltered, dropping from smirky to distressed.

 _?_

". . .to. . .no, no. . .shit," Ann whispered to herself, dropping her hand.

"What's wrong?" asked Ren.

". . .I. . I can't do it. Nobody deserves this false damnation," said Ann.

She covered her mouth, palm outwards. Ann's shoulders shook. Ren checked around. Not here, people would notice. Ren took Ann (by the hand) to a more secluded part of the bookstore.

"What's wrong, Ann?" asked Ren, keeping his voice low.

"I'm sorry," sobbed Ann.

"For what?"

"I was about to do something terrible to you," said Ann.

"Keeping me hostage in a bookstore isn't that terrible."

A small laugh escaped in-between sniffles.

"It's not that. It's…Kamoshida. He gave me an ultimatum on the day of the volleyball rally," said Ann.

That name. Kamoshida. Of course, this had something to do with that guy, thought Ren.

"What's going on?" asked Ren.

Ann stopped her sniffles. A passer-by looked curiously at the two teenagers, who were leaning in close together, whispering.

"You probably know part of the story, from the rumours people whisper at school. They say I'm sleeping with him because of how we talk, how he calls me, how he gives me rides to school," said Ann.

". . ."

"Would you still want to talk to me, knowing that I'm giving my body to that man?" lied Ann. She wanted to test Ren.

Ren pushed up his glasses.

"Who you sleep with, is not really my business. So yes, I would not mind talking to you. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I like to show basic courtesy to people in general," said Ren.

Ren did not appear appalled or disgusted by Ann. Was this guy for real? She thought. He was not going to shame her?

"The only reason I let Kamoshida talk to me, or try to be nice to him, is because of my friend Shiho. Volleyball means everything to her. She helped me out in a time when nobody would talk to me. Shiho made me feel like I was a fellow human, rather than a casualty of xenophobia. Today Kamoshida made it clear if I did not appease him, he would kick her off the team. Shiho's my only friend, my best friend, I don't want that to happen to her," said Ann.

"She's nice to me too. I can see why you'd want to look out for her," said Ren.

Ann nodded.

"On the day of the volleyball rally, Kamoshida called me. And he gave me this ultimatum. Either I'm supposed to head to his place today. . .a-and you know what that means. Or-" choked Ann.

 _She's not sleeping with him_ , deducted Ren.

"-or he told me I could tell the school, that the new exchange student, Amamiya Ren, raped me during the volleyball prep. He said if I falsely accused you of that, I would be let off the hook from sleeping with him and Shiho would indefinitely keep her spot on the team," said Ann.

That surprised Ren. Kamoshida was that thirsty to see Ren go down? To the extent of falsely framing him for rape? It was one of the few things that could damn him harder than the assault record Ren already had. It would also expel Ren from the Shujin at the speed of light.

 _That bastard_ , thought Ren, clenching his fists.

"It's such a terrible thing to do to someone. I didn't know what I was going to do, following you out here. I think it was desperation. I just wish he'd change his mind and leave me alone," said Ann.

 _Like changing his heart_ ¸ thought Ren

"Who knows, maybe that will happen," said Ren.

"Heh. I know you're just trying to make me feel better," said Ann, wiping her cheeks with a tissue.

"It's true."

Ann looked at Ren, wondering why he was being overly-optimistic for miracles.

"Thanks for listening to me today. I guess I just needed someone to talk to, so I could organise my thoughts. I could talk to Kamoshida like I've done in past side-steppings. Get him to change his mind."

Ann handed the umbrella to Ren, smiling. Ren took it. Before Ann stepped away from sight, she said:

"You going to be all right, yourself? I know you have it tough at school with your share of the rumours. Believe me, I know what it's like," said Ann.

Ren shrugged, sheepish.

"We've both learned to adapt to it. We're going to be alright, Ann. Don't worry about Kamoshida. He won't plague you for the rest of your high school years," promised Ren.

Despite Ren's words being far-fetched, Ann strangely found herself believing him.

* * *

Shiho dragged her feet to the school's exit. Almost out, she told herself. Volleyball practice was now over.

"Hey Shiho."

Shiho turned to see Mishima. The schoolmate was looking down at the ground.

"Yes?"

"Kamoshida-sensei wants to see you in his office," said Mishima.

Mishima and Shiho knew what the usual occasion was when a volleyball student was summoned into the office just after practice. Shiho swallowed. Why? She did not make any mistakes today.

"Did he say why?" asked Shiho.

"No," said Mishima, still averting his eyes.

"Okay. . .I'll be there."

* * *

 _Next day at Shujin._

During social studies class, the teacher stopped in mid-speech, staring at Ren.

Ren was bracing, staring out the window, not really paying attention to Mr. Ushimaru.

"Amamiya! This is not the time to be daydreaming!" bellowed the teacher; he threw a chalk at Ren.

Ren noticed something homing in from the corner of his eye. On reflex, he dodged the chalk before he even knew what was thrown at him, or who threw it.

 _Hmm? A chalk?. . .oh,_ realised Ren, when he saw the red-faced teacher.

"Whoa. That guy dodged it at the last possible moment."

"Didn't he seem athletic during the rally?"

And on went on the whispers of class 2-D. Ann turned on her seat to look at Ren. He met her blue eyes. Ren only tore his gaze when Mr. Ushimaru said:

"Hmph! Kids these days have no respect for their seniors. Amamiya, take yourself to the councillor's office right now and tell him I sent you for lacking respect," said Mr. Ushimaru.

The class went dead silent at the teacher's words. Shiori was appalled; she wanted to say something but stopped when Ren gave her the slightest shake of the head. Ren left his seat.

In the Disciplinary Office, the councillor gave Ren such a passionate yelling, that Ren internally debated if the guy would cut it as the lead singer for an emo screamo band. Too coarse, Ren decided. When it was over (ears a touch ringing from the high decibels), Ren was sent back to 2-D. On the way back. . .

There was a scream from somewhere in the school. Ren stopped in his track. What was that about?

 _Crack!_

It happened fast, right in front of Ren. For a split second, his mind was in a shocked stasis, registering the motionless body he saw in the courtyard. Then he acted. Ren dialled the emergency number on his phone. A student had made a violent impact from the school rooftop.

 _Shit!_ Thought Ren.

Ren ran out to the courtyard. He saw who it was. No. Not you. Ren fell to his knees, checking for a pulse. It felt weak and inconsistent.

" _What is your emergency?_ " asked the operator.

"I need an ambulance at Shujin Academy High. . ." Ren began.

As Ren explained the situation, blood seeped towards his knees, soaking in his uniform trousers. Ren clasped a hand onto Shiho's cheek. It felt trembling, like fear and pain. Then it began to soften, like a fadeaway into stilling. Shiho's eyes began to slowly close, the light fading from her eyes.

"Please tell me how to save her! I think she's dying!" said Ren, desperation in his voice.

" _Sir, do not attempt to salve the bleeding until the paramedics have arrived. Head trauma requires specialised handling . ."_

Ren ignored the clamours of the students surrounding Ren. Most of them had their phones out, live-streaming or recording what was happening in front of them. Cameras flashed here and there.

"Shiho, listen to me. Do you feel that? That's my hand on your cheek, focus on that sensation," said Ren.

". . .I'm sorry. . .I just couldn't take this anymore. . .this hell. . ." said Shiho, she sounded so weak.

"Don't speak. Save your strength, please," begged Ren.

". . .he raped me. . ." whispered Shiho.

Ren's chest went a kind of cold. Arsene stirred inside, feeling Ren's emotions reach a new threshold of chaos.

 _No. . ._ Thought Ren.

"Out of the way!" cried out someone in the background.

Ann came by Shiho's other side. Tears formed in Ann's eyes when she saw the state of her best friend dying.

Where was the fucking ambulance? Thought Ren.

". . .I'm sorry. . .Ann," said Shiho, the last word came out strained, with a sense of finality.

Shiho closed her eyes for the final time. Ren could no longer feel her pulse.

The ambulance arrived. Ren backed away to make space for them. With the other teachers panicking or being indecisive, Ann took the initiative to accompany Shiho at the paramedic's request.

Shiho's last words were rewinding slower and slower in Ren's head with each repeat. Ryuji was speaking to him, but Ren could barely hear him; processing how someone just died in front of him - how it all led up to this. Shiori took Ren away from the crowd, tugging him by the hand to the boys' washroom. Ryuji followed.

Shiori shook Ren by the shoulders, who snapped back to his surroundings.

"Did he do it? We could have stopped this," whispered Ren.

Shiori frowned.

"What are you talking about? You couldn't have known Shiho was going to jump from there," said Shiori.

"Yeah dude, what are you blaming yourself for?" said Ryuji.

A nervous breakdown triggered in Ren. Words cracked out.

"Ann - refused to frame me for rape. . .and Shiho said 'he' – 'he' did that to her."

Ren leaned against the countertop, his messy hair falling forward over his eyes. Ren slammed a fist on the marble. Shiori winced.

"What? Frame. . .you for. . .rape? What are you on about?" Ryuji asked slowly.

Ren told them what happened yesterday.

"Ryuji, where are you going?" asked Shiori.

Ryuji paused at the washroom door; he looked livid.

"Going to pay that shithead a visit," growled Ryuji.

Ryuji left before Shiori could get another word out.

"Ren, we need to go after him. He's going to do something damning – Ren! Listen to me!" said Shiori, flicking her fingers.

Ren blinked then nodded. Shiori was right. Ryuji was not in his right mind. He did not think any of them were, as of the moment.

The students scattered out the corridor when they saw the delinquent student leave the boys' washroom, covered in blood. Not knowing Amamiya was with Shiho a while ago, imaginations ran wild that the school's convict just stabbed someone in there. Shiori followed behind Ren.

#

"What are you doing here?" Kamoshida asked coldly. The volleyball coach stood from his desk.

"You tell me, arsehole. What are you doing in our school, hurting and driving students to jump off roofs?" snarled Ryuji.

Behind Ryuji, Shiori and Ren entered the P.E Office. Shiori was with these two? That explained some things, thought Kamoshida.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sakamoto. Maybe you should check what words you're speaking, and who you're talking to," said Kamoshida, his voice a toxic cocktail of smug, sneer and power.

"Did you do it?" asked Ren.

Ren's voice was not even loud, but it carried a kind of contained emotion that involuntarily made Kamoshida step back a bit, before remembering himself.

"Do what?" asked Kamoshida, smirking.

"You know what he's asking, dickbag. Did you rape Shiho?" asked Shiori.

Kamoshida raised an eyebrow at Shiori. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

"I'm pretty disappointed in you, Shiori. You and I, we could have helped each other you know. Yet you chose to throw your weight with these losers," said Kamoshida.

"These guys are one of the last remnants of decency this piece of shit school has left. You're the lesser man – no, not even a man. My vocabulary lacks a word lowly enough for you," spat Shiori.

Ren could see her temper was getting visible.

"Let's get hypothetical then. Did I rape Shiho? So what? To be honest, she wasn't that great to rail on this desk with that ugly swelling on her pathetic face. I suppose that was my fault anyway, since I gave it. Props to her for having a tight pussy though," grinned Kamoshida.

Ryuji threw a punch at Kamoshida. Ren caught Ryuji's fist from connecting, almost hating himself for seeing through Kamoshida for trying to bait Ryuji into another case of 'self defence'.

"Why are you stoppin' me? This bastard deserves it," said Ryuji.

"He does. He deserves punishment. _But not this one_ ," said Ren.

Understanding showed in Ryuji's face.

"You mean. . ." said Ryuji.

Kamoshida studied trio's faces. They did not know yet, the coach realised.

"This is on you, Amamiya. Poor, fragile Shiho jumped off the roof after her best friend refused to frame you for rape. If that dumb blonde knew how things worked, none of this would have needed to happen," drawled Kamoshida.

Ren held up his hand, which was covered in Shiho's blood. Her blood was on his uniform. Her blood was on his conscience. Ren's hand trembled. Was Shiho possibly dead, as a causality of Ann trying to protect him?

The school's intercom beeped. The P.A said:

" _Amamiya Ren. Can Amamiya Ren of class 2-D report to the faculty office immediately. Amamiya Ren_."

Shiori frowned at the speaker in the P.E Office. What did they want with him now?

"Heh. We'll see about that. She will-"

Kamoshida interrupted Ryuji, "I know you're stupid, Sakamoto. But even you would know the dead cannot speak tales. Shiho was announced dead on arrival at the hospital. Oh that poor girl. . ."

 _!_

"And as far as the school will be concerned, the three of you came in here threatening me with unfounded accusations and displaying violent aggression. I will be reporting this at the next board meeting. Shiori may get off with a warning and will fall out of good favour, but you two rascals. . .both of you will be expelled for sure."

"You're the worst," whispered Shiori.

"No. This is how the real world works and you brats are too slow to catch up. Get with the system or eat shit. I'll see you at the faculty office, _convict_ ," said Kamoshida.

Kamoshida left the P.E office, shoving Ren by the side.

#

A grim assembly of teachers, school staff and even the principal, awaited upon Ren's arrival to the faculty office.

"Took your time. You still haven't gotten the blood off yourself? Where have you been all this time?" asked Ms. Kawakami.

Ren patted down his blood-soaked trousers, self-conscious.

Kamoshida was with the staff. Ren met his eyes. They told Ren he was in Kamoshida's territory here.

"I was on my way to wash off when I heard the intercom," said Ren.

A few sceptical looks conjured at that excuse.

"You've been summoned here due to the tragedy that just occurred at the school. Witnesses say you were the first one on the scene when this girl–" the principal paused, reading the slip of paper in his hands, "-Shiho Suzui fell from the rooftop. We just got word that she passed away. The doctors were unable to revive her," said the principal.

Ren pretended to be surprised.

"Witnesses also say they saw her mouthing something to you before she appeared to lose consciousness. As part of the formal inquiry, the school wants to know what she said to you, Amamiya," said a woman; Ren did not recognise this person.

"Who are you?" Ren asked politely.

"A lawyer. I handle the school's legal affairs. My presence here is a formality," said the woman.

 _Formality? You're here to make sure there's no lawsuit or an information leak which might vindicate the staff or damage the school's rep_ , thought Ren.

"Well? What did she say to you?" demanded the principal.

Kamoshida was sitting relaxed by one of the tables, pretending to look intently at Ren. The corners of the coach's mouth twitched, betraying the mirth he enjoyed in this screwed up situation. The power to undo Ren from telling the truth, right here.

Was this the reality of Ren's world? Shiho had confessed right in her dying moments that she was raped by Kamoshida. Kamoshida admitted just as much. Here Ren stood, asked by the staff what Shiho said to him. With Kamoshida ready to discredit him, thanks to the vice grip of power he exercised on the school. Ren could not tell the truth. They would not believe a juvenile like him with Kamoshida here. The rapist would shoot down what little validity Ren had left.

 _Were her dying words wasted on a convict?_ Ren thought.

"She said, to tell her family that she was sorry. I asked her to not speak, hoping she would save her strength until the doctors could save her," said Ren.

Some of the staff looked genuinely sorry at Ren. The others. . .

"You're so incapable that you could not call emergency services soon enough, and now a student is dead. Has there been anything you did not screw up in life?" clucked the principle.

Ms. Kawakami looked reproachful at the principle's harshness, but she did not say anything. Ren could only avoid their eyes. As he did, he saw the after-images of Shiho's fading eyes looking at him. Shiho had a brighter future than someone like Ren and Kamoshida punished her for events beyond her control.

"You're dismissed. Tora-san, make an announcement that school will be cancelled for the rest of the day. . ." said the principle.

#

_Shiori: Don't avoid me, Ren. Meet me at the school gates. We're travelling together like usual_

_Ren: What made you want to reinforce that? _

_Shiori: Because I know these adults are making you feel responsible for Shiho, in ways they don't realise_

_Shiori: This is NOT your fault _

_Shiori: I don't want you to be alone to the dark thoughts in your head, Ren :( _

_Ren: I'm fine. See you at the gates_

_Shiori: We'll watch a movie tonight _

_Ryuji: Shiori's right dude. Kamoshida is the twisted one here. He's trying to get in your head by making you blame yourself for Shiho's death _

_Ryuji: We have to steal his heart _

_Ryuji: Even if it means risking it all. I've made up my mind, I'm going in alone if I have to _

_Ren: You won't be alone _

_Shiori: ^Yes _

#

"Did something happen today?" Morgana asked the troubled pair, Shiori and Ren.

To onlookers, it would seem like an ordinary cat was meowing to high school students. Nothing unusual. Apparently, only those who have been to the metaverse were able to understand Morgana.

"Today was shite," said Shiori.

Whispers and pointing came at Ren and his ruined school uniform. Ren had washed off whatever blood he could in the washroom sink at Shujin, but it did not remove stains.

" _Mummy look, there's blood on that boy's clothes_."

" _Don't look at him, Haruhi. He must be one of those thugs who gets into gang fights in the arcades._ "

" _Ack!_ "

A vein throbbed at Shiori's temple. She suppressed the urge to snap at the mother.

"Get cleaned up. Meet me at the cinema in an hour," said Shiori.

"You don't have to babysit me you know? I'm fine. Really," said Ren, pushing up his glasses.

Shiori placed both hands on Ren's tense shoulders. She gave them a gentle squeeze.

"I believe you-" Shiori said softly, "-but this is more for me because I'm selfish. C'mon Morgana, let's give Ren some space for now. . ."

Sojiro was hands on hips when Ren timidly entered the café, hoping there were no customers to see him in this state. Thankfully, the place was empty.

"I got a call from your teacher today. You can't stay away from trouble, even if you try. What a sick joke, for life to drop a girl right in front of you when you're minding your own business," said Sojiro.

". . ."

Sojiro scratched his beard, noting Ren's uniform.

"Change out of those and leave them in the basket I left upstairs. I'll get those stains off back at my house," said Sojiro.

"I can do it at the laundromat," said Ren.

Sojiro waved a hand.

"I'd prefer if unwanted questions are not asked. Like why the kid staying at my café, is washing off blood from his school uniform," said Sojiro.

 _Right_.

Ren hesitated.

"What?" asked Sojiro.

"Shiori Oshiro, from the cinema. She invited me over to watch a movie there tonight," said Ren.

Ren waited. Expecting Sojiro to say no because of Ren's affinity of being found by trouble. To Ren's surprise:

"Okay. Socialising with decent people is good for you. Considering the day you had today, you deserve this much. I'll also allow you to roam Yongen-Jaya in the night from now. But listen up, don't make me regret that decision, okay? Don't stay out late."

"I won't. Thank you," said Ren.

* * *

Shiori was on the phone with Ryuji, in her bedroom. On her bed, sat Morgana who was grooming himself.

" _How is he? Ren must be mindfucked by how involved he is with Shiho's death. If I were in his shoes, I'd be in the gutter myself_ ," said Ryuji.

"It's hard to tell. You know how he is, holding himself to a high standard. Thinking he has to be that guy, coolly composed under pressure," said Shiori.

" _I ain't complaining. It's relieving he stopped me there back in the P.E office_. _In a way, I'm starting to feel like I can depend on him, y'know? Like he's the leader_ ," said Ryuji.

". . ."

" _About stealing Kamoshida's heart. . ._ "

"I know I know. You feel that we cannot waste time now that something this fucked happened. Ideally, we would have gone to his Palace today, but we need to be smart about this. Shit – is - real when we're fighting there. Right now, Ren may not possibly be in his best and that could backfire on the rest of us if we go now," said Shiori.

Shiori undid her bra and slipped on an overlarge grey T-shirt. At the mirror, she ruffled her unbridled hair to let it fall fully.

" _Then tomorrow?_ "

"Yes. Just give me tonight to stabilise him. We're bringing DEFCON 1 to the castle tomorrow. The next board meeting is not for fifteen days or something, I think," said Shiori.

"Shiori! Your friend is here!" called out her grandma from downstairs.

"Gotta go. See you tomorrow."

" _Bye_."

Shiori did a quick reply to one of Kuro's messages then headed down.

#

The theatre Shiori had Ren settled in, had one of the comfiest cinema seats Ren's bum ever had the pleasure of acquainting with. Shiori dropped the temperature a bit from the A/C system and threw a thick woolly blanket on Ren. Shiori propped next to Ren, holding her own blanket, which had an etching of Totoro on it.

"What movie is it?" asked Ren.

Shiori tapped the play icon on her phone. Morgana slipped in-between the seats and curled onto Ren's lap, closing his eyes.

"It's a foreign movie. _Perks of Being a Wallflower_ ," said Shiori.

"You like foreign movies?"

"And some foreign music, yeap!"

They both settled into silence at the title screen. Ren got to know that the teenage protagonist, Charlie, had a history of mental illness. . .or maybe still suffered from it?

"Which actor is that?" asked Ren, at a further point in the story.

"Ezra Miller. Talented dude," said Shiori.

" _Hey, dad. Can I have 30 dollars_?"

" _20 dollars? What do you need 10 dollars for?_ "

Ren laughed at that.

The movie did not play out how Ren was expecting it to. The characters felt honest rather than a tropey script. The movie pushed Ren's emotional buttons, giving him waves of bittersweet, sad and happy emotions throughout the film. By the time the end credits rolled, he found himself in liking to the movie.

"Wasn't expecting that. Is this your favourite movie?" asked Ren.

Shiori was bundled up like a baby in her blanket. She slipped it off her head when straightening up at Ren's question. On Ren's lap, Morgana was still asleep.

"It's a movie that I enjoy. But not my favourite, no. That would be _Seven Samurai_. One of the few things in this world which asserts the human race is. . .perhaps not a complete screw-up haha," said Shiori.

The movie, the comfy seat and blanket had left Ren with a strange fuzzy feeling. Strange because of how it compared to the nightmarish day Ren had today. What happened today. . .Ren's expression tightened.

"I know today was hard on you, Ren. There's no shame in admitting that much. Somebody died right in front of you," said Shiori.

The ending credit song had filled the theatre with a strange vibe, almost fitting for the strange mood Ren felt himself in.

"I kept thinking on the train ride back. . .Shiho did not deserve that. I assumed I was used to the vulgarity of this world, its disparities and malevolence. Yet I still can't feel de-sensitised to what Kamoshida did. I can't get used to what society is despite everything I've seen until now," said Ren.

"Don't you feel angry at Kamoshida?" asked Shiori.

"I do. It's so bad that I can't predict what I might do to tomorrow when I come face-to-face with Shadow Kamoshida. We only have to steal his Treasure, yet I feel this mindless drive to just kill the king with my bare hands. Morgana told me that killing a person's shadow would surely kill the person in the real world," said Ren.

". . ."

Ren sighed.

"But that would be selfish to my impulses. No, if the change of heart does work, watching everything Kamoshida built in the real world, his reputation, that pimp ring he's running. . .I want him to see all of that collapse, more than seeing him dead. I want him to know people found out who he truly is and live out the rest of his life, vindicated."

Shiori was still quiet. She was tracing the contours of the seat armrest, looking to be in deep thought. Finally, she said:

"There are a lot of obstacles in our way. His Treasure will be something we will have to bitterly fight for, despite having a convenient method to stop the real Kamoshida. But it's not what happens in his castle that bothers me the most. . ." said Shiori.

"What is?"

"Imagine if we're successful, Ren. If this change of heart is a true method. What will become of us? Would we go back to living normal lives like usual? You've seen what is supposed to happen next, in some movie or video game. Kamoshida's twisted nature is not exclusive to Shujin," said Shiori.

"You've given more thought to this than I imagined," said Ren.

"How much have you thought on it?"

". . .remember what Morgana said on our second visit to the castle? Personas have been used in the past by other people. I dare not believe that there isn't another person out there, apart from us, who know about the metaverse. Which is a bit scary. We don't fully know the extent of our powers or all the mechanics of the metaverse, but there are probably others out there who do. There may even be people like. . .CIA or Naicho, I dunno. Some organisation or circle out there who would recognise the patterns of people with Personas. I would not be surprised if these folks don't take kindly to our kind."

The ending credits were over on the projector screen.

"There are the dangers of failing in the castle. Then there are the dangers of succeeding. . ." Shiori laughed derisive at the realisation.

"We don't have a choice. It's fight or submit to Kamoshida now," said Ren.

". . .fuck it. We're doing this," said Shiori.

* * *

 **Apologies for the late update. I had a lot of stuff going on irl and it was a while before I was able to sit down to type chapter 9 (which has been the 2nd hardest chapter to type so far). Putting that aside, I've given extensive consideration to how this fanfiction will conclude (with respect to how long and dense the game is itself) as well as how long it will go on for. After careful thought, I've decided the story will wrap up after the sixth palace - which is perfect for what these character arcs are building to. For those who played P5, you would know this is shorter than the game which did something like 7 palaces + Knockin' on heaven's door. I won't spoil what the next five palaces will be so stay tuned ;P**

 **I'm also trying out a new thing with the story description where there will be a short premise summary at the end of it, kinda like what TV shows do with each episode. Let me know what you think of that in the reviews. And a token of appreciation for those who R &R. **


	10. Flatline

"You killed him?" asked Skull.

"No. He ran into my sword eleven times."

Outside the atrium, there was a low rumble. Followed by the windows stained-glass shattering. Cascades of dazzling colours fell around Mona and Skull. Through it, a high pitch noise sliced the air. Skull winced. Mona's cat ears took it worse.

"YAAARGH! What is this noise?!" yowled Mona.

The cat rolled, trying to block his ears. The pitch faded. Mona opened an eye, grimacing.

"That was not fun," said Mona.

In the distance, the two heard a distinct shout:

" _Carmen_!"

* * *

 _Yesterday. On the day of Shiho's death. . ._

"Three, two, one – clear!"

 _Bmmf!_

The green line on the heart monitor was still flat. The continuous beep thrummed in the E.R.

"A third time."

They charged the defibrillator again. The head doctor looked at the young girl before him. A line of sweat ran down his temple. He once had a daughter this age, who grew up to be a happy woman who looked after orphan gorillas in a wildlife conservation in Africa. This girl who attempted suicide, he did not want her to be robbed of her own dreams.

"Three. . ."

The hum grew loud.

". . .two. . ."

Louder.

". . .one."

Primed.

"Clear!"

They pressed the electrodes onto Shiho. The direct current injected into Shiho's heart.

 _Bmmf!_

Flatline. The doctor lowered his head. She was beyond saving.

"Time of death is. . ."

Outside the E.R, Ann paced worried in hyperventilation and tears. She tried to imagine the doctors coming out, looking relieved, telling her Shiho was in critical condition but was going to live. Please, any good news, she thought.

A doctor came out. When Ann asked about Shiho; the doctor's words landed like Thor's hammer.

#

Goro flipped through the contents of the file.

Across the cabinet room was a woman in a smart, sharp business suit. Goro paused from the file, low key watching the Public Prosecutor. How much did Sae Niijima know, that she was already looking into Wakaba Isshiki?

Sae leaned closer at the computer which kept a medical database. They were in one of the hospital's archive rooms, having been granted access after an information warrant Sae managed to secure.

Goro reverted his gaze back to the bio-data in front of him. Wakaba Isshiki. Woman in her late 30s. A researcher funded by an anonymous person from Australia. Her study into the non-material led to many branches, some metaphysical, others occult. Eventually, Wakaba anchored into investigating a supernatural reality, said to have been derived from human cognition and consciousness. Wakaba called it 'Cognitive psience'. Goro turned the page. Details about Wakaba's death. She threw herself in front of a speeding vehicle. The official story ruled that it was suicide by mental illness.

The unofficial (unknown) story was, Goro killed this woman by triggering a choreographed mental shutdown. She had learned too much. Was going to reveal too much. Looking back at how it went down, Goro felt a tinge suspicious at how easy it seemed at the time. Considering how much Wakaba knew about the metaverse and what kind of people enter it, you would have expected some sort of. . .security or insurance? Yet two years on, this woman's blood has not trailed back Masayoshi Shido, the politician who ordered her death. It was impossible for there to be a loose end. That day. . .

X

 _That day it was raining. Road conditions were slippery. It was a perfect day for a pedestrian accident. Goro stood at the edge rooftop of a five-story building, looking down at Wakaba and her daughter. They were waiting at the pedestrian crossing for green. It appeared the mother had bought her daughter ice cream. Goro grimaced. He hated vanilla. Why not add some colour to it?_

 _Goro stepped off the rooftop, into a freefall. He closed his eyes and entered the metaverse._

 _How long has he been doing this? Goro asked himself as he lobotomised the Inner Wakaba. How long will he have to until he gained that man's trust? Thought Goro, watching Wakaba in the metaverse scream like a banshee as insanity took hold. Goro flicked his fingers and returned to the real world._

 _Wet. He was wet again in the rain. Goro looked from the sky to the tween girl crying. On the road was her mutilated mother. The child was not spared the sight of the brutal impact, or the innards being scattered across the road. The ice cream had fallen on the road too. It was no longer vanilla, but red._

 _That was satisfying._

Goro blinked.

"She had a daughter, you know? Futaba Sakura," said Sae.

Judging by the frown she had, Goro guessed Sae was frustrated by how little else there was to know about the research from the hospital records alone. Not that the hospital would know about such things anyway. Shido's people scooped up all the research data. Marked 'Unaccounted' in the formal investigation.

"She's staying with a guardian, right?" asked Goro.

"Yes. . .a Sojiro Sakura in Yongen-Jaya. He runs a café there. A child psychologist consulting in the investigation from two years ago, confirmed Futaba did not know anything about her mother's research," said Sae.

 _Good for her. I would have had to kill that one too if she knew even an iota about the metaverse_ , thought Goro.

"I'd like you to investigate this daughter. More specifically, the guardian looking after her. It's obvious he knew Wakaba personally. The SIU will book it as an external consulting fee for you of course," said Sae.

Goro snapped the file shut and placed it back in the cabinet.

"You think I'd find something a squad of a dozen investigators could not?" asked Goro.

"Hasn't it always been that way? You've solved past crimes, from petty burglary to serial murder. Cases that had the police stagnated or stupe. I don't know what your unorthodox methods are, but they might scratch something about Wakaba's research. Right now, the SIU is thirsty to understand why these mental shutdowns are happening. I am convinced Wakaba's research somehow ties to all this," said Sae.

Even though Goro had Sae fooled, he had to give her the credit for coming this far and figuring out this much about the mental shutdowns. The phenomena were freaky and mysterious to the public, but Sae was focused and unfazed.

#

Goro stepped out the elevator. Something caught his attention from his peripheral vision. Goro paused, seeing a blonde girl crying at a lounge seat. She was alone, in her school uniform. The girl gulped. Her irregular sobs indicated attempts to contain her messy waterworks (unsuccessfully) around these adults.

Hospital staff walked past her without sparing too much of a glance. Goro guessed grief was a norm around here.

"Here."

Ann blinked and hand-wiped the teary blur from her eyes. A dark blue handkerchief was held to Ann. She took it, grateful. Her tissues were in her bag, at school. There had been no time when she got onto the ambulance.

"Thank you," said Ann.

A boy appearing close to Ann's age was the handkerchief's owner. He wore a tidy cashmere jacket uniform with dark trousers. In his hand was a leather briefcase.

Goro offered the girl no words or sympathy, nor did he ask if she was okay. He always practised that generosity does not privilege you to another's privacy. Although whatever she was crying about must severe, Goro realised. That 'Thank you' sounded raw.

"Keep it. I think you need it more than me today," he said to her.

His kindness exuded formality. A kind of practised efficiency that betrayed no hesitation when confronted by a woman's tears. Ann guessed this guy was a 'pro' with women. Ann thanked him again. The boy nodded. His attention briefly became sidelined by what was on the TV.

". . . _and on foreign news, the United States of America possibly faces a paradigm shift in respect to information and media access. The FCC, spearheaded by Khajit Pie, are pushing for the repeal of net neutrality, a move that has been met with criticisms from politicians, lawyers and even large entertainment companies, like Netflix. There is a concern that this is an attack on a human right; access to unrestricted information. . ._ "

Goro adjusted his cufflinks, an affectation to veil the disdain that threatened to show in front of the girl.

 _The world is complicated, and the masses political and moral compasses are too simplified. Maybe Jesus or the Buddha should have spoken about oligarchy and military-industrial complexes_ , thought Goro.

"I'll be going now," said Goro said to Ann.

Despite his kindness, Ann could not help but be reminded of Light Yagami.

* * *

 _Next day_.

The bell for the end of the school day rang. Ann spun on her seat to Ren, grabbing him by the hand. Ren flashed his eyebrows. Ann had shown up to school today with red, puffy eyes. Ren watched Kamoshida walk past her in the school corridor earlier today. The coach barely spared Ann a glance, as if nothing had happened.

"What?" Ren asked.

"I need to speak to you," said Ann.

"Amamiya, could you see me after this in the faculty office?" said Kawakami, from the front of the classroom.

There were a few snickers in the classroom. Whispers went:

"Someone's in trouble. Again."

"There's no hope for that guy."

X

". . .so if you attend this after-school coaching program, I think it would do you good. It's an initiative by the government for students with a. . .colourful profile. The mentoring will right you," said Kawakami.

The others were already waiting at the school rooftop for Ren. It was supposed to be an immediate insertion into Kamoshida's palace, the moment classes were over.

"No," said Ren.

Kawakami blinked a few times, vexed.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" asked Kawakami.

"I don't want to attend this workshop," said Ren.

Kawakami looked at him disappointed.

"While everyone else at school is doing well, you still insist on carrying this delinquent reputation you have," said Kawakami.

 _Doing well? You say that right on the week a student kills herself_ , thought Ren.

Ren hitched up his bag. He bit back his reply.

"You look like you have something to say," said Kawakami.

"I. . .have nothing to say," Ren said softly.

 _But one thing to do_.

#

"Really? You're going to ditch your duties today?" asked Makoto.

The other council members were watching Shiori and Makoto with an abated breath. Shiori and Makoto occasionally butted heads, but today was different. Makoto's patience had reached a breaking point. Shiori herself seemed tightly wounded.

"In case I spoke too low the first time, yes. I won't be available today," Shiori said coldly.

"You think this is fun and games, Oshiro? You don't just choose to join and scamper off whenever. We've got a heavy itinerary to prepare for the school-"

"The school? _What the fuck exactly is it that we do here?_ We sit on our arses, picking at students who hang out at arcades, all while someone was on the highway to suicide," Shiori seethed.

Makoto was shocked at Shiori's retort. The president took a deep breath, trying to quell her anger.

"Suzui was obviously suffering from mental illnesses. It is unfortunate that she did not seek help, while we at the council emphasise to the students that counselling is available here. That said, I am not impressed you're using a student's death to question me or the validity of the council," warned Makoto.

". . .using a student's death-" Shiori repeated incredulous. "-what do you think I'm trying to say to you?"

"You tell me. Are you planning to give extra grants to the basketball team because of Kuro?" Makoto asked coolly.

Shiori nodded sarcastically.

"Okay then. . ." said Shiori.

Shiori stepped closer to Makoto, till their faces were inches from each other. Shiori had a height advantage on the school president. She wanted only Makoto to hear the following words:

"You and I. . .and every other member in this room, we failed Shiho Suzui. We are failing other students too. Now. . .you might think it's okay to pull out some formal protocol explanation like _Well gee, we gave flyers to students about mental health and the services_ , _how did we fail?_ – right out of your shiny ass - but I don't. I don't know when it will happen, but when the truth of what happened surfaces to the school, I want you to remember today. . .when I told you that you were an incompetent student council president, in watching out for your peers," said Shiori.

"Oh really? That's what's behind all this? Jealousy. Because you're not council president. You think you can fling baseless remarks on how well I'm doing in this role because of that? If you leave this room without apologising, I will personally write you off the council," said Makoto.

Before Shiori left the room, she gave Makoto the middle finger.

#

When Ren left the faculty office, Ann was waiting outside for him. Ren had a feeling of what she wanted.

"You guys are up to something against Kamoshida, right? I want in," said Ann.

Her voice sounded pained but steady. There was a kind of determination in Ann's eyes that Ren knew he could not talk down. Ren's heart was not in it to tell Ann to drop it. She had better reasons than himself to go after Kamoshida.

"You're mistaken," Ren said stiffly.

Ren tried to get by past her. Ann held out a hand stopping him. Ren scowled.

"Ann. . .look, you're a nice girl and all that. And I'm sorry you lost your friend. But this is foolishness. There is nothing I can do - we can do about it. Just like you," said Ren.

"Yet, I can tell you're plotting something with Sakamoto and Oshiro. You think I haven't noticed you and Oshiro looking at your phones the same time during recess? Or how you guys huddle in some corner of the school, with those secretive meetings. People are already talking that you're going to be expelled, after the next board meeting," said Ann.

Ren raised his chin at her.

"Get out of my way, Ann," said Ren.

"No. Not until you let me help!"

 _What a stubborn woman_.

Ren did not want Ann getting involved like this. Kamoshida could retaliate against Ren - through her, if something went wrong. The volleyball coach had proven he was willing to take psycho and perverted measures. Time to push Ann away. Hurting kind hearts was horribly easy. And Ren knew where it would hurt the most for Ann.

"We both know, _it's your fault_ , that Kamoshida raped Shiho that day-" Ren allowed no hesitation in his voice.

Ann gasped, taking a step back. The way she looked at Ren, devastated him on the inside. He knew better than the others, how painful this guilt is. But Ren did not let up.

"-you think, you'll find redemption by nagging me about this fantasy you've cooked up in your head? Or is it to make yourself feel better? Ha! I do give you my congratulations though. You tried to protect a convict and look where that-"

Ann slapped Ren. Everyone in their corridor hushed. People stared and pointed. All the colour had drained out of Ann's face. Her lips trembled. There was more power in that slender arm of hers, than Ren expected. His face stung. Ren rubbed his cheek.

"Glad we're at a mutual understanding," said Ren.

Ren left the corridor.

#

"You ok?" asked Ryuji, when Ren arrived at the school rooftop. Shiori and Morgana were also there.

Ren bristled.

"Let's just get this over with. Everyone ready?" asked Ren.

"Yeah," said Ryuji.

"Ready to roll!" said Morgana.

Shiori nodded. She did not seem talkative.

"Ok. . .Ryuji, since you already got your phone out. You'll do this one," said Ren.

At the other side of the door, Ann eavesdropped. Ren did not know she followed him.

"Opening the app. . .and. . .Suguru Kamoshida. Castle," said Ryuji.

 _What are they doing?_ Wondered Ann.

Ann waited. Waited. There was silence.

"That's weird," said Ann.

Ann pushed opened the door to the school rooftop. The place was empty. Definitely weird. Were they hiding? Ann checked around, but there really was no one. Her iPhone beeped. Ann checked and saw a weird red and black eye on her phone. Under the icon, read a message: _Follow_.

Ann clicked on the icon. A strange app opened. Ann was pretty sure she did not install this. Ann checked her surroundings again. There really was no one here.

"Hmmm. . .Suguru Kamoshida?" said Ann.

" _Match found_ ," said her iPhone.

". . ."

What is this? She wondered.

". . .Castle."

The world around Ann warped.

* * *

Ren silently landed on the thick shelf. The others followed. Like gargoyles, the four watched from the shadows of the great library; Jack-O-Knights patrolling the aisles.

"It seems Kamoshida is indifferent to our school library. There's nothing special happening here," whispered Shiori.

"Any idea why we started off in a different place again, when entering the Palace? You'd think the app would let us enter. . .I dunno, from the front always. Only this time, it was from a balcony," whispered Ryuji.

Ren shrugged; he was counting the patrols. Just three.

"Morgana, do you use an app to enter the metaverse?" asked Ryuji.

"Ha. A pro like me does not need one," said Morgana.

Shiori quietly chuckled.

"Pro? So, do you have a codename?" Shiori asked.

"That's not a bad idea. How about we all get codenames?" suggested Morgana.

"Oooh, can I be 'Batman'?" asked Ryuji.

"No."

"No."

"Nah uh."

"Maaan. Fine. Then what?" grouched Ryuji.

Shiori thoughtfully considered Ryuji's attire and persona.

"Hmm. . .how about 'Skull'?" said Shiori.

"Skull. . .yeah, I like that," said Skull.

"Oh oh. Do mine. Do mine," said Morgana.

"Morgana. . .you can be. . .'Mona'," said Shiori.

"Mona. . ." repeated Mona, ". . .yeah, I like that. What will yours be?"

"Obviously, _I'm Batman_ ," scoffed Shiori.

"Oh no, you're not. Nobody gets to be Batman if I'm not," objected Skull.

Shiori giggled. She pursed her lips, thinking.

"Is 'Comedienne' ok?" she asked them.

"Tis' good."

"Yeah, I like it. Comedienne."

They all looked at Ren. He had been quiet for the most part, keeping an eye on things down there. Half his face was veiled in pitch-black shadow. Comedienne could make out a distinct tiny blue flame, from where Ren's veiled pupil would be. The flame went out.

"Looks like Arsene's powers allows me some sort of third eye vision. I'm able to track footprints, echolocations. . .and some objects around here glow," said Ren.

"That is going to be useful," said Mona.

"We were just discussing codenames. Shio – Comedienne, how about you give Ren a codename too?" said Skull.

Comedienne already had a codename in mind for Ren. Almost immediately after she chose her own. Ren was often quiet, making him mysterious. As well as showing up with new powers like now. This made him some sort of wild card.

"You're like our ace. We'll call you 'Joker'," said Comedienne.

Joker quirked his mouth; he nodded in approval.

They observed the patrol for another half-a-minute.

"How are we going to go about this one?" asked Skull.

They all waited on Joker's instructions. Joker flourished his dagger.

"You know, up until now it has been messy brawling. Let's trying something quieter this time. We'll ambush them without raising the alarms. Comedienne and I will take the two further back there, you two take the one here," said Joker.

#

The Jack-O-Knight paused by the fire hearth. Did he hear something? The knight looked back at his comrade, who was standing in front of a painting of King Kamoshida (in the painting the king fondled the volleyball girls). Just his imagination. When the knight looked away from his comrade, Comedienne dropped down on the knight by the painting, burying her tachi through the back of his neck and out his heart.

Joker came for the one by the fire. Joker sparrow-kicked the knight from the back of his head, sending him face-first into the hot coals in the hearth. Joker drove his dagger through the knight's back, into his heart.

"We should operate this way more often," said Comedienne.

Joker nodded. Stealth allowed them to study their surroundings, maybe making it easier to move around the castle. Skull and Mona's target was on the other side of the library, hidden by many rows of shelves.

"The other two would have taken care of the third knight. Let's rendezvous," said Joker.

#

Skull propped himself reverse on a chair, resting his arms on the back of it. Skull whistled to the Jack-O-Knight, who had his back turned to him. The knight turned. He pointed his sword at Skull and said, "You the-"

The interruption was courtesy of Mona. The cat swooped in and flipped the knight upside-down with Zorro's gale, bringing the knight's head in level with Mona's short stature. Mona beheaded the Jack-O-Knight.

Skull rolled his eyes as Mona did mock stage bow.

"You totally overdid it," said Skull.

"Oh please. I doubt you could match the finesse and grace of that takedown," said Mona. Skull got off the chair shaking his head.

"Yeah right. I'm doing the next one," said Skull.

Skull checked out a bookshelf, scanning the titles. The blond scratched his head, as if trying to wrap his head around something.

"I never took you to be into reading," said Mona.

"I ain't. Just checking to see if these are the sorta books one might find in the school's 'Biology' section, or if it matches up to the personality of some magical castle of lust. I'm still trying to wrap my head around this palace thing y'know? And the metaverse," said Skull.

Skull pulled out a book and flipped through the pages.

"Magical castle. . ." confirmed Skull, he flipped and tapped on a page.

". . .it doesn't just look like a movie prop too. The words written feel like they came from an actual person in fantasy land," said Skull.

Skull put the book back in place. Mona's ears perked. Mona leapt onto Skull's head, the cat's face set in concentration.

"Waah! What's the deal?" asked Skull.

"Sshhh."

Mona strained his ears. He could make out voices behind the bookshelf against the wall.

" _Still. Why was the Princess in such an odd place?_ "

 _Princess?_ Wondered Mona.

" _I could have sworn we were pursuing the readings of an intruder_."

" _Hmph. I doubt she was the princess. The imposter has been delivered to King Kamoshida, like a bouillabaisse for His Highness 'consumption'_ ," replied an arrogant voice.

That second voice. . .that was Incubus! Realised Mona.

"Huh. Why is this book upside-down?" said Skull, reaching out for a thick blue book that jutted out.

"Skull, don't! I think this is a mechanism-"

Skull pulled the book out. Inside the walls, gears whirred. A semi-circular segment of the floor began to rotate with the entire wall and shelf. Mona fell off Skull's head, startled. Skull gasped. There were no longer in the library, but some sort of. . .ballroom? Atrium? Skull was not sure. What he was sure of, was that in the centre of it stood Incubus with his hands behind his back. Accompanying him were two Jack-O-Knights, who drew their swords at the intruders. Skull swallowed.

"Well well. It would seem the castle is prone to attracting vermin, repeatedly. I'm surprised to see you alive, Sakamoto. You were supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean," said Incubus.

Skull gritted his teeth.

"I'd like to see you try that move again," growled Skull, pulling out his crowbar. Electricity crackled around Skull.

Mona was more nervous.

"Ohhh snap. Why did it have to be this guy," whispered Mona, conjuring his scimitar.

Incubus did not look impressed. He dropped his arms from his back and began to fold back his sleeves.

"It would seem, I will have to get my hands dirty for this one. Where is the girl that was with you?" asked Incubus.

"Who is this 'princess' you three were talking about?" Mona shot back.

Incubus gave a thin smile.

"Lack of manners slime-coats these rats. As for your question, we found a blonde maiden bumbling lost in one of our courtyards. She bore a striking resemblance to this castle's princess, a denizen one of your comrades has already. . .acquainted with," said Incubus.

Skull frowned.

"Is he talking about Ann? That doesn't make any sense. How did she get in here?" Skull asked Mona.

Mona shook his head, 'I-don't-know'.

Mona and Skull gasped when Incubus shoved his hands through the backs of the two Jack-o-Knights. Dark swirls enveloped the knights and compressed them into black elongated gauntlets, with claw-blades jutting out of the knuckles. Incubus flicked his hand. Panels opened in the atrium. Out swung large axes, arcing across the large room in irregular patterns, like something out of an Indiana Jones movie.

"Before we begin, would anyone like to get on their knees to beg for forgiveness?" asked Incubus.

Skull and Mona did not move.

"Very well."

Through the deadly slices in the air, Incubus wraith formed towards Skull and Mona.

"Get ready, Skull," said Mona.

"Way ahead of you, Mona," said Skull.

* * *

"Where are they?" asked Comedienne.

Joker examined the beheaded Jack-O-Knight. It was a clean cut. Mona's weapon? Joker activated his third eye. He saw Mona and Skull's footprints glow on the floor. None of them tracked to the door. How did they leave?

"Obviously someone took that poor sap out," said Comedienne.

"Something must have happened if they left just like this," said Joker.

Comedienne sighed. So much for things going well. The group was already separated, and Mona was the only one who knew where the Treasure Room was.

Before Joker deactivated his Third Eye, he saw something through the walls. People actually – two of them. Joker saw the profile of a girl, she glowed pink. The memory of Princess Ann's melody came to thought. Joker shivered. His Third Eye was able to pick out Princess Ann? Then who was this second person, glowing brighter and red?

Comedienne noticed the flames in Joker's eyes were there again. He was using his Third Eye. Joker's jaw tensed up and the flames became bigger. Joker placed a hand on the wall, like he was trying to reach for something through it.

"No way," muttered Joker.

"What's wrong?"

Those blue fires pointed to Comedienne.

"I think Ann Takamaki is here," said Joker.

* * *

" _Zorro!_ "

Zorro shadowed behind Mona. A vortex turbined towards Incubus in his wraith. His smoke form got starfish-spread against the ground, forcing the demon to rematerialize.

"Now Skull!"

Skull charged lightning into his crowbar and swung it like a heavy hammer to Incubus's head, for the coup de grâce. Before the swing went down, Incubus grabbed Skull by the ankle. The strength left Skull's arms. The crowbar missed Incubus's head in the clumsy fall. Although it was not a direct impact, the lightning ravaged the right side of Incubus's face, partially exposing a demonic skull.

 _What the. . .it's like a life drain_ , thought Skull.

Skull fell by one knee, trying to gather his strength.

"Skull! Look out!" cried out Mona.

A giant axe was returning to swing at where Skull crouched. At the very last moment, Skull managed to roll away, the sharp edge barely grazing his shoulder.

"Damnit," said Skull.

Whatever Incubus just did to him, it took a lot out of Skull's vigour. Skull got to his feet too slow. Incubus took advantage and leapt at Skull, those claws outstretched. The red skull under the false human flesh, lopsided a diabolic grin and an empty eye socket. Skull barely raised his crowbar in time. The force of Incubus's slash, wrenched the crowbar out of Skull's hands, sending it clattering across the atrium. Before the second claw could return the favour of what Skull did to Incubus's face, a pellet struck Incubus dead centre in his good eye.

"Yaaaargh! My eye! I can't see!" cried out Incubus.

Mona landed between the two and blasted Incubus back in a gust. Skull saw the cat had a slingshot in his paw. Skull's vision became a bit dizzy. Oh crap, he was going to disorient in a room full of swinging axes. Skull lost track in a swimming haze.

When Skull's senses stabilised, the axes were no longer swinging. A bit further away, Incubus laid dead. Mona was grooming his pelt like nothing happened.

"You killed him?" asked Skull.

"No. He ran into my sword eleven times."

Outside the atrium, there was a low rumble. Followed by the windows stained-glass shattering. Cascades of dazzling colours fell around Mona and Skull. Through the sharp colours, a high pitch noise sliced the air. Skull winced. Mona's cat ears took it worse.

"YAAARGH! What is this noise?!" yowled Mona.

The cat rolled, trying to block his ears. The pitch faded. Mona opened an eye, grimacing.

"That was not fun," lamented Mona.

In the distance, the two heard a distinct shout:

" _Carmen!_ "

* * *

The place appeared to be some sort of cabaret, blaring jazzy porn music with girls strewn over silk pillows, touching themselves to the tune. Incense candles burned aphrodisiac. There were even a couple of stripper poles; revolutions of sweaty thighs and glitter gloss lips puckering. At the centre of the room was a BDSM X-shaped post. Bound onto it was Ann Takamaki.

"What's all this about? Seriously, I'm going to call the cops!" exclaimed Ann.

"So this is the intruder."

King Kamoshida entered the cabaret. Following by his side was Princess Ann.

"Kamoshida? . . .who's that? More importantly, what is this place?! Why has the school turned into something like this?!" asked Ann.

"To think this crude imposter fooled you people to be my Ann," said King Kamoshida, hands on his chin.

 _What's with that costume of his? Has he gone mad? And why does that girl look like me?_ Wondered Ann.

"Are you afraid?" asked King Kamoshida.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Ann, aghast.

"I do as I please. After all, this is my castle. . .The world of my desires."

"This isn't funny. Enough of this bullshit, Kamoshida!" cried out Ann.

"What a lively slave-" King Kamoshida turned to Princess Ann, "-the girl's decided to tell me off. What do you think of that?" asked King Kamoshida.

Princess Ann leaned up to him and started tonguing the king. Ann watched with disgust as a mirror of her was felt up and mouthed by this creep. She felt like throwing up. Why was this happening?

The two broke off.

"Talking back. . .is totally unforgivable," whispered Princess Ann, stroking King Kamoshida's hair.

"In that case-" began King Kamoshida.

"Tell me, Princess Ann. With the amount of shit that comes out of the king's mouth, what is it like to stick your tongue in an arsehole?" asked Joker.

 _Wait. This voice. . ._ Thought Ann.

Joker and Comedienne entered the cabaret. To Ann, they were dressed in these strange costumes and holding weapons. Comedienne rolled her eyes at the cognitive volleyball girls touching themselves. This was how Kamoshida saw them? Typical.

"Just when I was starting to enjoy myself. How many times you scum are going to keep coming back?" said King Kamoshida. The king turned to Ann.

"I bet you're just like these thieves, huh? You came because you're pissed at me. But, ah. . .I forgot that chic's name, but it's your fault she jumped, you know," said Kamoshida.

"I. . ." said Ann

"You were so reluctant to throw yourself onto me, I had her take your place. Fittingly, she got raped after you refused to frame that criminal," leered King Kamoshida.

Ann nodded, tears in her eyes.

"I know. Someone told me the same thing today," whispered Ann.

 _What?!_ Jolted Comedienne; she looked at Joker.

"Maybe. . .he was right," said Ann, raising her eyes to Joker's.

Ren said those things because he wanted to keep her out of harm's way. Yet the situation came to this.

"Ann. . ." said Joker. He was not sure what he could say to Ann, in this crazy place, after what he did to her. Everything was his fault; Shiho's death, Ann being held hostage. He should have never gotten involved with the beautiful blonde who called him a liar. She should have called him a fool instead.

"Didn't I tell you. . .the next time I saw you, I'd really kill you?" said Princess Ann.

Then there was this siren. Part of Joker blamed Princess Ann for making his feelings complicated with the real Ann. Oh well. Time to face the music.

Joker shrugged sheepishly. He held his arms open to Princess Ann.

"Well. . .here I am," said Joker.

"Let me kill this bitch. You take the others," said Comedienne, gripping her tachi.

" _No_ ," said King Kamoshida.

They all looked at him.

"Let Ren confront my princess. Shiori, if you dare to intervene-" Kamoshida nodded to the Jack-O-Knight holding his sword against Ann's neck, "-you'll see her head rolling across the floor."

There was no choice. Joker stepped forward hesitant. Princess Ann did the same. Joker conjured his dagger, not sure how to begin. He realised King Kamoshida purposely chose Princess Ann, because Joker would be mindfucked by the guilt he felt for hurting Ann. It was given away to the rest in the room.

"A few things make sense now," said Princess Ann.

". . ."

 _Arsene_.

Joker's dagger caught aflame, blue and white.

"You're that kind of guy, huh? Hurting someone to push them away from you. I can tell you did it to her-" Princess Ann nodded to Ann, "-and you're trying to do the same to me, in a way!" said Princess Ann, she leapt at Joker.

Joker became a dark blur in rings of fire. Princess Ann was even blurrier, darting in and out, to find an opening on Joker. Already - she was working her siren song on him. They were like Saturn and Titan. Constantly revolving around the slower one with its rings, Princess Ann started to tide cuts on Joker. Then. . .

Princess Ann slammed Joker against the wall. She twisted his hand, forcing him to drop the dagger.

"Cut her up, layer by layer," commanded King Kamoshida.

Kamoshida was going to kill Ann anyway, observed Comedienne.

A Jack-O-Knight lightly pressed his sword against Ann's cheek. Blood drew from a thin line, flowing down her face and neck. Comedienne thumb-slid out her tachi by an inch, trying to calculate how fast she could disarm the two Jack-O-Knights by Ann. Not fast enough, Comedienne realised. Comedienne looked to Joker. He was in mortal danger too. Comedienne had a better chance of saving Joker. Was she going to have to make the choice of who to save? Was it even a choice?

"No. . ." whispered Ann.

"Hehehe. Maybe we'll get a little entertainment out of it too. We'll start with her clothes first, get a nice good look before with start with the skin and flesh," said King Kamoshida.

"Shiori, we both know you won't reach me in time. Help Ren instead," said Ann.

"Chivalry from the maiden in distress herself? How noble," mocked King Kamoshida.

Comedienne hesitated.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Shiho, Ann. People always leave. But it's how they do, that stays with us," said Comedienne.

Comedienne turned away from Ann, to help Joker. Comedienne tilted her head side-ways, the top portion of her face covered by hair.

"Don't make me come back to kill you by proxy, Ann. To save you from Kamoshida exploiting what belongs to you. I will do that, whether you believe it's his or yours," said Comedienne.

 _Shiori_. . .thought Ann.

What was hers. . .Ann realised what Shiori meant.

A voice came to Ann. Feminine. Fickle. Daring and Confident.

" _My. . .it has taken too long._ _Tell me. . .who is going to avenge her if you don't?_ " said the voice.

The structure of the place shook. Blue smoke started to fill the air.

"Huh?" said Princess Ann.

"Get away from him," growled Comedienne.

Princess Ann snaked away from Comedienne's tachi, which buried itself against the wall. Comedienne yanked her weapon out.

"Stand still, please," requested Comedienne, smiling.

"Tch!" said Princess Ann.

The place shook again. A high wailed pitch started, interrupting Princess Ann's siren song.

"What. . .what's this?!" cried Princess Ann, she clamped her ears. The noise was hurting her ears.

" _Such is the scream of the other that dwells within. I am thou. . .thou art I. . ._ "

Ann screamed, her body convulsing in pain. Joker and Comedienne's eyes watered at the blue smoke. What was this?

Ann breathed heavily in her restraints. These restraints she had on herself. . .they weren't always just physical.

"I hear you. . .Carmen," Ann said quietly.

The left manacle cracked then broke. Then the right broke. A red mask flashed on Ann's face, cat-like.

"No more holding back," said Ann.

 _Boom_.

There was a plosion from Ann, sending the Jack-O-Knights flying back. Where Ann was, a ball of thick blue smoke rotated like a plumy ball. Joker coughed. He could not make out Ann, was she in there? A whip snapped out of the ball, wrapping around Princess Ann's neck.

"Wha-"

Princess Ann was pulled into the ball. _Snap_. Everyone was hushed. What was happening? The smoke in the room began to clear. So did the smoke ball. Comedienne gasped. Princess Ann was dead at Ann's feet.

Joker almost did not recognise Ann. She was wearing a red leather suit that accentuated all of Ann's physicality, unabashed. Behind Ann, towered a Persona.

 _That's Ann's Persona. . .Igor is including her too in all this_ , realised Joker. He did not think it would go beyond Comedienne and Skull.

"You bitch, how dare you!" howled King Kamoshida.

Ann replied:

"No. . .how dare _you_. Your opinion of me, my body, you think that is proprietary to define who I am? There is no one and nothing outside myself that needs to enable me to be strong, beautiful and express love. My power to be self-defining is mine, and mine alone, you piece of shit."

Ann closed her eyes. When she opened them, she spoke a name that carried indomitable throughout the castle.

" _Carmen!_ "

* * *

 **Part of me was tempted to rush with this update but I didn't do it. Since this is discovery writing, I only ever get to post these chapters once so hey, if you only get one chance for something, might as well do it decent. Someone asked about the sex scene, hmm well I did say 'soon' and it does feel soon in my head. It will happen, don't worry. Not sure if next chapter, but "soon" :P I won't spoil who. Don't expect that one to be the only one.  
**

 **I also want to talk about Ann in this afterword. Persona 5 was my first Persona game. Watching the adverts, the trailers, image promos, I was not quite sure who I would treat as the 'main romance' for the nameless protagonist (nor was I sure what kind of experience I was in for in general). When the game started off, Ann was the most attractive choice (which kinda makes sense since Ryuji was the only competition initially). As the game progressed, more characters were introduced. More potential romance options. You had the amazing Tae Takemi. There was the teacher romance option, Kawakami. Characters like Hifumi, Ohya, Futaba (instant sister-zoned) and Haru. But there was one other that kinda stood out. Makoto. It started off with the following around school and I think you know the rest of the history.  
When I cleared Kaneshiro's Palace (third palace), in my head I was juggling Ann, Tae and Makoto. If you're acquainted with P5's fandom, you'll know what's been the meta-commentary on these characters. Makoto emerged as the majority choice in the western market (and I think the high no. of Ren x Makoto fics here lend to that X_X ). I did notice (at least in my cognition) that Ann had the most polarising opinions with the fans. Anyway, I wasn't in-touch with all that during my playthrough. When it finally came to it, I chose (I suppose many of you would have guessed it by now :P ) Ann Takamaki.**

 **Growing up from boyhood, into a young adult, I soon came to learn how I will be measured in this world. There are many ways to put it, so I'll try my best to be eloquent. It came down to status, money and. . .a kind of 'masculinity'. Masculinity: Never showing a moment of weakness, not being emotional and god forbade a dude sheds tears XD Anyway, I rolled with those expectations without resentment. I nailed academia getting accepted into a good university in the country, ambition, learning how to be a socialite and networking (even though I am an introvert). Everything from my mannerisms to my grooming became a kind of practised science, meant to articulate a strong man because for the longest of time, I believed this all defined my worth in this world. The girls I've dated in my life first responded to that strong man and always preferred me that way. I didn't mind really. I think it was because I lacked self-awareness then.  
Getting to know Ann in P5 was a rude awakening for me. NPCs in the game tried to turn her femininity against her, whether it was Kamoshida or the Shujin boys gossiping about her, or other things. Ann...being 16 years old a transitional point from childhood to a grown woman, she grew accustomed to a society that quantified for her physical beauty and that basically all she was. Sometimes taking an identity from her and translated it as something that was supposed to be bad rather than something for her own-self to embrace. On top of all that, there was one other thing about her that stood out to me.  
She's kind. Now you might be thinking, "Eh? Kindness? Aren't most of the girls kind in this game?" and that is true haha. But with Ann, it wasn't just that this was a basic virtue. It felt to me, that right down to her core nature she was a kind-hearted and passionate person. I drew this from her confidante requirements as well as watching her talk about Shiho. With the other girls, it was always like "You need to be this charismatic to talk or progress with me," or "You need to be this smart. . ." you get the picture. But Ann's requirement(s) was only kindness. It seemed outrageous to me at first. A girl who didn't impose a criterion of performance? What was this? I thought suspicious. Why would somebody accept my self-insert protag for who I am by nature, as a person, without my trophies of achievements? And then, it all clicked. Slowly, but then all at once.**

 **There were other things of course. Ann is also sassy, funny (like actually funny), bubbly and there's something about her smile that lights up cold dark places in me. I could go on and on, but I think you've got the general picture now. I'll probably talk about Shiori in the next chapter.**


	11. Clarity

"What the hell?!" said Skull.

Mona and Skull finally caught up to the source of the racket they were hearing in the castle. They came to find Princess Ann who laid dead on the ground, with a twisted neck. That was surprise #1. Surprise #2 was the Jack-O-Knights trying to defend Kamoshida – who were being set on fire and tossed to the ceiling with a looping whip. Some ricocheted off the ceiling. The (relatively) unlucky ones were thrown a little too hard and stuck onto the ceiling by the design of their weapons - twisting on them in the violent nailings. Surprise #3 had them shook. It was Ann Takamaki who was tossing these knights, while sporting a red leather suit with a tail.

Mona gave an appreciative whistle.

"Man if I was into bestiality, I'd tap that human girl," said Mona.

"Uhh. . .I think it works the other way around, Mona," said Skull.

Joker kicked off a wall and landed on the shoulders of a Jack-O-Knight, burying his dagger through an eyehole. Joker leapt off the shoulders and landed in front of Skull and Morgana.

"Hey-" said Joker, his voice slightly short of breath, "-where were you guys?"

Blades clanged, bodies got electrocuted or combusted while the girls fought behind Joker.

"We. . .were busy with Incubus. Don't worry though, he's dead," Skull said proudly.

" _Hahahahaha. You rats! You thought ye had bested me? ME?! INCUBUS?!_ " screeched a demonic voice from the dark hallway behind Skull and Mona, who rounded in alarm.

From the pitch-black shadow, came the sounds of clinking. Suits of armour? Wondered Joker. Were there more Jack-O-Knights on the way?

Something finally emerged. Joker's eyes widened. No. Not Jack-O-Knights. Not quite. The empty suits of armour Joker and Comedienne passed earlier were crawling on all sides of the hallway, leaking some dark miasma from joints and orifices. In the centre of the hallway, Incubus emerged. Joker barely recognised him. Incubus's face was charred on one side and gruesome wounds covered the rest of his body. Flesh and outer bones dripped off Incubus like melting wax, revealing another person underneath. A red-skinned weedy demon trudged. Incubus's true form had a tail and some weird horn, jutting out where its dick was supposed to be. Thin metal wires tugged from Incubus's mouth and fingers. Joker realised these wires were connected to the animated suits of armour. Puppets.

Incubus stuck out his tongue and wagged. Two armours threw themselves in-front, moving like human-spiders in need of an exorcism. The armours raised their mace while the others crawled like insects.

Skull swallowed.

"Didn't you say you killed that guy?" asked Skull.

". . .technically I didn't say that," replied Mona, although the cat was just as surprised as Skull.

Someone shoved past the boys. It was King Kamoshida - he ran towards Incubus and looked back, sweat running down his temples. They gave the king a good scare today.

"Get to safety, my king," said Incubus.

King Kamoshida did not even need to be told once. The boxers clad king ran like Road Runner.

Comedienne joined Joker and the others.

"Crud. Just missed him," cursed Joker.

One of the empty armours lunged at the gang. Skull stepped forward and smacked the armour's visor off. The empty suit still reflexed, compelled by Incubus's puppet strings. The armour slashed at Skull, renting a thin line on his thigh.

"Shit!" said Skull.

Joker blocked the second strike from the armour. Comedienne dropped low, swinging her tachi as hard as she could to the armour's knee-joints. The armour collapsed, losing its legs. It tried to crawl with its arms but Mona kicked it back into the hallway, to Incubus.

"We can't let him in with those things, into this open space. Mona, I'll need your wind to create a fire tunnel," said Joker.

Twin flames conjured in Joker's hands. The blue fires shaded Joker's face into an etheric glow. Ann Takamaki joined by Joker's side. Ann spun her whip, creating whirling concentric circles of fire.

"You're going to make a flamethrower here? I can help," said Ann.

". . .thank you," said Joker.

Ann side-glanced at Joker, her expression partially covered by the cat-mask.

"You and I are going to have a talk after this," Ann said quietly.

 _Whew. Hate to be you, Joker_ , thought Comedienne, remembering what Ann did to the siren.

Joker glanced back at Ann. So many emotions passed between them in that moment; because of what happened earlier today. Even Ryuji and Morgana - who did not know what Ren said to Ann, shifted uncomfortably with the vibes, getting the message that something serious had happened between the two.

There was a roar. Beast-like. Everyone, even Incubus, paused at that.

Then from behind Incubus, Joker saw a small orange glow, emerging from the other end of the long dark corridor. The glow became larger until Joker could make out it was a torrent of. . .fire.

"Everyone dive!" ordered Joker.

Incubus turned around and saw the inferno that came up, behind him and his armours. A contortion on Incubus's face as he began to whisper:

"Kamoshida, you backstabbing motherfu-"

Incubus got incinerated. Joker and the others dived out of the way. A slipstream of fire spewed into the room and concentrated against the wall on the other side. When the fire stopped, Joker saw the stone wall was badly charred and glowed molten red at the edges. What the hell did that?

The roaring came again. Comedienne's eyes widened. Of course. Why had she not realised sooner?!

"SHIT! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!" screamed Comedienne.

"Why? What is it?" asked Comedienne.

Comedienne fumbled out her phone, tapping to open the metaverse navigator app.

"Wait, you want to leave now? What about securing a route to the treasure room?" asked Mona.

"Forget that! The heat is too strong right now. What does every castle have, if it has a treasure room? What's the cliché? What do the fantasy stories tell us, from _Lord of the Rings_ , to all those children's cartoons?!" asked Comedienne.

"A dragon that guards the treasure," said Ann.

 _Oh. Shit_ , thought Joker.

Comedienne nodded.

"And who's that one powerful guy from Shujin we haven't seen here yet, despite being a major part of Kamoshida's cognition of the school?" asked Comedienne.

"The principal," said Joker; he facepalmed. A freaking dragon. Wow.

"Wait, the principal is here too? Really, what the fuck is going on here?" asked Ann.

The tower shook. Joker could feel the temperature rising. Was the dragon burning this whole place down, to take them down with it? Looked like Kamoshida did not want to take any chances this time.

Again, the tower quaked. Before Comedienne confirmed the exit for the real world, Joker looked to the window in the cabaret. A large yellow eye blinked back at him, its iris slit-like. The yellow was a similar shade of the principal's suit. This was the last thing Joker saw in the castle before the world around them warped.

* * *

". . .so after that, we decided it was imperative to go after Kamoshida's treasure. He had done too much damage. Stealing his heart is worth the risk," explained Shiori.

Commuters walked past, eyes glued to their phones. Overhead, Shibuya Station's P.A system announced train schedule changes, due to the recent mental shutdowns.

Ren was silent for the most part while Shiori explained everything they knew to Ann. Ren wanted to take off now and dodge the impending 'talk' he was supposed to have with Ann. Urgh. . .maybe he should have stayed back to fight the dragon.

Ryuji re-joined them, holding bottles of drinks in his hand.

"I got us drinks. Which one ya want?" asked Ryuji.

Ren shook his head.

"Which one is non-carbonated?" asked Ann.

"Umm. . .neither," said Ryuji.

Ann sighed and took the cola. Shiori took the lemonade.

"So what do you plan to do now? Are you going to help us out?" asked Ryuji.

"We could do with an extra hand," said Morgana.

Ann was still not used to the talking cat.

"You can actually talk, but others can't hear?' clarified Ann.

"Seems to be that way," said Shiori, rubbing Morgana behind the ear. The cat purred.

"Are you okay with me joining, Shiori?" asked Ann.

Shiori shrugged.

"As long as you understand the risks. . .I don't mind. I think all of us here agree, you deserve taking a shot in bringing down Kamoshida. Especially after what happened," said Shiori.

Ren was quiet. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, pretending to stare into space. Ann knew he was still aware and listening, looking for the first chance to leave. Did Ren want her to be a part of this crew? Ann wondered.

Shiori noted Ann glaring at Ren, while Ren pretended to chill - as if there was no nuclear bomb ticking in the form of a beautiful blonde girl. Shiori cleared her throat.

"Ryuji, Morgana and I will leave you two to sort out this… _thing_ , you two are stressing about right now. I don't think we can move forward until it is resolved," said Shiori.

Ren's eyes bored into Shiori. 'Had to go all Judas on me, huh?' They said to Shiori. Shiori rolled her eyes. 'Suck it up,' she communicated back.

They left Ren and Ann alone. Ren sighed.

"C'mon, let's take a walk," said Ren.

* * *

Arcade and music rhythm machines beeped and thrummed, flashing lights in the neon-streaked game arcade. Ann and Ren sat by a corner game machine. At its top, read _Persona 4: The Ultimate in Mayonaka Arena_. Ren plopped a 100 yen into the machine.

"Do you know how to play?" asked Ren.

Ann nodded.

"It was my fault, huh?" said Ann.

They came to the character selection screen. Ren chose 'Yu Narukami'. Ann chose 'Yukari Takeba'. The fight began. Ann proceeded to devastate Ren's character with a two-string multi-hit combo, leaving Yu with half health. Ann was speaking in two languages today.

"That's for you to decide," said Ren. On the screen, Yu retaliated, chipping away some of Yukari's health.

"You think forgiveness is that simple, Ren?"

Yukari did an aerial recovery.

". . .I am sorry for saying those things to you, Ann" said Ren.

Yukari finished off Yu for Round 1.

Ann waited for Ren to follow-up with excuses on the apology. Like why he did it. Justifications. But he did not say anything such.

"And there is nothing I can do or say, that will undo the severity of my harsh words," said Ren.

On the fighting game, Yu was blocking and blocking Yukari's attacks but hardly countering. As if he did not want to fight. Ann stepped up the tempo and broke through Yu's guard.

". . ."

". . ."

Slowly Yu's health was being depleted.

"I never said this back there, but I glad you made it out of King Kamoshida's capture, okay," Ren said quietly.

Yu finally shot back, hitting Yukari with a charge of lightning. Yukari briefly faltered, shocked into a standstill.

"Are you going to push me away again. . .ever in the future?" asked Ann.

"No."

Yukari dashed to Yu. Yu did a retaliating attack, knocking Yukari back, away from Yu. Ann turned her head to Ren. His face was unreadable. The reflection of the game screen on his glasses blocked Ann from seeing Ren's eyes. Ann held out her phone to him.

"Let's exchange contacts. I'm going to help, Ren. You can't stop me like last time," said Ann.

"Did I really stop you?" teased Ren. He complied, exchanging emails with Ann.

Ann stood from the arcade machine, picking up her school-bag.

"Not going to finish the match?" asked Ren.

Ann looked to the screen.

"We will finish the match. Just not today," said Ann.

". . ."

Ann hesitated.

"What?" asked Ren.

Ann scowled at him then lunged both hands at Ren. She roughly ruffled Ren's hair.

"Wha – hey! Cut that out – What are you. . .Ann! Gimme back my glasses!" said Ren.

"You want them back - you can ask for it tomorrow morning, with the magic word!" Ann shot back. She left the arcade.

Jeez. Her anger was not going to subside anytime soon.

* * *

_ANN TAKAMAKI added to group chat_

_Ryuji: Yooo. Welcome. _

_Ann: Hey_

_Ann: I'm guessing half the plotting happens here? _

_Ryuji: Yup. Ren added you, right? So it's all good between you two? _

_Ren: Good enough for thieves _

_Ann: Don't mind him (￣▽￣)ノ _

_Ryuji: Hmm…Shiori is not saying anything for some reason_

_Ren: Don't mind me? (ﾟдﾟ) Really? (ﾟдﾟ) O' Rly?! (ﾟдﾟ) _

_Ann: Later, Ren. 😉 _

Ren's eyelid twitched. That word again.

_Ryuji: Shiori? Heeello _

_Ren: She's probably busy_

_Ren: I'm booking it in for the night. Goodnight _

_Ryuji: Night, bro _

_Ryuji: Wonder what Shiori could be busy with. Must be tired I guess. _

* * *

Shiori giggled as Kuro lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around Kuro's waist, wearing only her underwear and a black tank top. Kuro paused.

"You sure your grandparents will be away?" he asked, gently laying Shiori down on her bed.

Shiori arched on the pillows and blanket, freezing Kuro's breath. The contours of her breasts pressed more prominently against the dark fabric. When Kuro tried to lean forward to Shiori, she held out her foot to his face, stopping him. Shiori laughed.

"If they were here and not on their anniversary visit to Hakone, would you stop?" taunted Shiori.

Kuro took off his shirt.

"No," he growled.

Better, she thought.

Kuro grabbed her foot and suckled on a toe. Shiori's playful expression changed. Her breathing grew heavier. Kuro began to kiss from her ankle and slowly worked his way up her leg. Shiori whimpered when his lips brushed into her inner thigh. Her hands clenched the bedsheets. Kuro kissed closer to where her sex was, then switched legs.

"You fucking tease," gasped Shiori.

The torture began again. He went slow, kissing. Working closer and closer to _there._ Kuro unbuckled and slipped off his jeans until he was wearing just his boxers.

Kuro nuzzled against Shiori's red undies. It was wet. She was wet.

He got to work down there. At the same time, Kuro's hands slipped under Shiori's top, and slowly palmed her hips and belly. His fingers were slow and elaborate, occasionally stopping to run circles around her naval before tracing the contours of her abs. Then under Shiori's breasts. Using his teeth, Kuro tugged down the hem of her underwear. He relieved one hand from Shiori's nipple and tugged the undergarment down, below her knees. Her mound was shaved. Kuro stuck his tongue inside her pussy, purposely doing slow arcs inside her.

Kuro's multi-tasking on Shiori made her breath even heavier, raspier. Her eyes were closed. She occasionally bit her lips when Kuro drove up the tempo then brought it down.

Kuro broke off. It took a few seconds for Shiori to gain some degree of coherent awareness, she waited long enough to sit up and pull off her top. Shiori already undid her bra earlier, leaving her naked in the dim light.

With the sight Kuro had, he thought if his heart stopped beating in that moment, Kuro would have wondered how it was possible to die in heaven. Shiori was practically the hottest girl he ever got lucky with.

Shiori caressed Kuro's face into her hands, one hand behind the back of his head, her fingers feeling through his soft black hair. The other by his jawline. They kissed hungrily, in lust. A rumble rose from Kuro's chest when one of Shiori's hands felt down to his member. Shiori laughed in the kiss, breaking off. Her hand went back to Kuro's head. This time she guided his head to her neck. He kissed there. Then she slowly moved his head, lowering it down to her breasts. As she did, Kuro left a trail of kisses on her ash-pale skin. Kuro restrained his arms back, his fists clenching the pillows hard. His entire body tensed up, willing to be set loose to ravage Shiori. Shiori knew this. It was a game of turns in teasing. Kuro knew this.

 _Oh fuck it_ , thought Shiori. Why bother waiting? Shiori released Kuro's head. Kuro drew back, looking into her dark eyes. They told him all he needed to know.

Kuro flipped Shiori, to her back facing him. Kuro took a second to admire the view. What an ass! Thought Kuro. Kuro pulled off his boxers and slipped on the condom that was in his shirt pocket. He reached out to Shiori's ass, feeling the smooth curvature then gave it a light slap. Shiori gasped.

"You like that?" asked Kuro.

Shiori looked back at him.

"Wuss. Is that all?" she challenged.

"I'll show you all," growled Kuro, he grabbed Shiori's hair and lightly tugged. He pushed Shiori down against the bed and lined up his cock against her pussy. Kuro slid in. She was so wet! Shiori moaned into the pillow. Kuro fucked her like a man obsessed, rocket powered by the days of texting and Snapchatting that preceded. Anticipation was the mother of all aphrodisiacs. She encased his dick so tight that Kuro had resistance when he gyrated her in the prone bone. Shiori was dizzy in ecstasy.

Minutes went by and Kuro began to feel a kind of pressure build-up in him. Kuro was experienced yes, but not that kind of _experienced_ that he could last longer. Kuro began to pound as hard as he could, his groin slapping against Shiori's rippling ass.

Kuro came hard. It felt like an avalanche of feelings as he emptied onto her. For a few seconds, Kuro hovered behind, panting just as hard as Shiori. They were both covered in heavy sweat. The sheets were drenched too. Kuro pulled out, carefully slipping off the condom and disposed of it in the washroom. He washed up.

Shiori gathered her breath on the bed as Kuro washed up. Her bed had acquired a musky smell; salt from their hook-up, mixed with the perfume Shiori wore. As well and Kuro's cologne. It was. . .nice.

* * *

Ren yawned. He gazed at the attic before him, blinking blearily. Ren was kind of used to the place now. In fact, he found some charm in it. Especially in the morning light. At his feet, Morgana was stretching and yawning himself. Ren unlocked his phone and checked his notifications. There was some unread in the group chat. Three from Shiori.

_Shiori: Hey! _

_Shiori: Morgana spent the night at your place, right? _

_Shiori: I forgot to check _

_Ren: Uh yeah. He did _

_Ren: You must have been tired last night for that to escape your notice? :-) _

_Shiori: Nah fam. _

_Ren: ? _

_Shiori: I had a gentleman from the basketball team over, last night. _

_Shiori: The old folks were out _

Oh, realised Ren. It was that kind of night.

_Ren: I trust he was...sufficient? _

_Shiori: lol _

_Shiori: He was alright. _

_Shiori: Could have lasted longer though 😐 _

_Ren: Bahahahaha _

_Shiori: But I enjoyed myself. Like he knew some things _

_Ren: XD alright alright. Looks like one of the mortals slept with a goddess :P _

_Shiori: Oh shuttup 😊 _

* * *

 **Ok, so first up, I'd like to clear out a misunderstanding some of yous may have possibly had in chapter 1. I had a few messages where some of the readers misunderstood that the premise of this fanfiction states that Ren was the captured Phantom Thief in chapter 1 and that he killed two of his comrades. Now I ain't saying this is/isn't true. . .however if you go back to read that passage, you will notice that no name or even gender is given away of who the captured Phantom Thief is. It's purposely kept hidden. The true premise of this fanfiction is: Someone killed two Phantom Thieves. And the killer was a member of the group. That's the draw. :)**

 **Anyway, thank you for the R &Rs. Reading them makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. I've also set a soft target of doing 5 updates in April (without compromise to quantity and quality per chapter, naturally). **


	12. New Dawn Fades

**A/N: Lyric-less version of _New Dawn Fades_**.

* * *

_You have been added to a group chat by REN AMAMIYA_

_Ryuji: Yooo. Welcome. _

_Ann: Hey_

_Ann: I'm guessing half the plotting happens here? _

_Ryuji: Yup. Ren added you, right? So it's all good between you two? _

_Ren: Good enough for thieves _

Ann giggled. She was lying on her bed, dressed for sleep.

_Ann: Don't mind him (￣▽￣)ノ _

_Ryuji: Hmm…Shiori is not saying anything for some reason_

_Ren: Don't mind me? (ﾟдﾟ) Really? (ﾟдﾟ) O' Rly?! (ﾟдﾟ) _

It was time to go to bed, Ann realised - looking at the time. Before Ann typed her next reply, her eyes caught the red PS Vita on her end table. Her smile faltered as Ann felt her throat go heavy. Shiho gifted that to her for her fifteenth birthday. She looked back to her iPhone screen. Don't falter, she told herself. Don't show weakness. Don't give Ren an excuse to push you away again.

_Ann: Later, Ren. 😉 _

_Ryuji: Shiori? Heeello _

_Ren: She's probably busy_

_Ren: I'm booking it in for the night. Goodnight _

_Ryuji: Night, bro _

_Ryuji: Wonder what Shiori could be busy with. Must be tired I guess. _

The chat reached a full stop. Shiori was not getting on, it seemed. What was she up to? Ann wondered. The girl always seemed aloof to Ann, despite coming off from that messed up accident she was in last year, losing her friend in the process. Yet at school, Shiori hardly showed hints of trauma from the event. In a way, Shiori had something in common with her. Ann lost Shiho herself.

Ann blinked, seeing a tear dome on her phone screen. She did not realise she was already crying. A second tear fell, joining the first.

Ann sniffled. Her shoulders shook. Again, the reality that Shiho was gone, hit her. Ann kept replaying things in her head. Those weeks before, seeing Shiho's eyes cast down. Her gaze diverting whenever Ann asked if everything was all right. Was there something she could have done to prevent Shiho's death? She wondered not for the first time.

 _Yes. Yes there was,_ said her mind, believing about how she could have sold Ren out.

 _Maybe_ , said her body. But the mere thought of being near Kamoshida made her guts churn.

 _No. There wasn't_ , said her heart. Believing in Ann's good intentions and wellbeing. Believing in never doing the cruellest things.

Stupid heart, Ann thought to herself. You didn't save Shiho. Ann's felt her chest flare. She stiffened. Was that Carmen? Ann smacked her cheeks. Her Persona was right. She needed to be strong right now.

More tears fell. But maybe for now. . .Ann could let it out. The others won't see her like this anyway.

Ann pulled over the blanket and quietly cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Kuro picked up a photo-frame by Shiori's bed. It showed a picture of Shiori, sitting on what appeared to be a bar counter. The background colours and lighting made Kuro think of an underground nightclub. There was also a guy in the photo with her. He was hugging Shiori from behind, head rested on shoulder, his eyes closed in this goofy kind of expression. Shiori looked happy. Kuro's finger placed at the guy's face. He had sleeve and neck tattoos. Also wore hipster kind of glasses. Why did he look familiar? Kuro wondered. Kuro tilted the frame. It clicked.

 _Ah_ , thought Kuro. There were minute differences but man in the picture looked somewhat similar to Amamiya Ren from school.

"That's Takumi. He helped a lot me during my recovery period, last year," said Shiori.

Kuro placed the frame back on the end table. He turned to see Shiori wearing just a blue varsity jacket. She was sitting on a bean bag, a glass of Smirnoff vodka hanging in one hand, PS4 controller in the other. Kuro accepted the vodka she proffered. After he drowned it, he asked, "Should I put on some clothes?"

Shiori ran her eyes up and down Kuro's naked profile.

"I ain't complaining," said Shiori, swaying her head.

Kuro sat on the other bean bag, looking at the TV screen. Shiori had the Spotify app opened on her PS4, playing a track called _Condensers_ by Elliot Goldenthal. For the first time since Kuro arrived, he took a proper look at Shiori's 'bedroom'. It was actually an attic, but the furnishings and decorations Shiori had applied to it gave the place a cool personality. A large OLED poster hung from one corner, shuffling movie posters. Right now it showed the (1995) movie, _Heat_.

"You look like you're far away," said Kuro.

". . .where would 'away' be?" Shiori asked, her voice echoing ashy in the room. Shiori's eyes were distant, towards the floor. Her skin had a kind of glow in the dim lighting.

"I'm guessing to when that photograph was taken. Me looking at it reminded you of those days?" asked Kuro. His eyes lingered on the scars and tattoo on Shiori's arm.

Shiori poured herself a shot and raised the glass in a toast.

"Astute," she commended.

Shiori downed the shot. Spotify started playing _New Dawn Fades_ by Moby.

"What happened to him?" asked Kuro.

Shiori raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you say something did happen to him?" asked Shiori.

"Something tells me I wouldn't be here if that man was still in your life," said Kuro.

Shiori was impressed. For someone with the reputation of a simple basketball jock, Kuro was surprisingly perceptive.

"Takumi was someone who looked bad on paper. Dad was a full time drunk, unemployed. Mother worked in a hostess establishment. Barely completed high school. Shady. Dealt Class A drugs in Shinjuku. Yet he was the most sincere and generous person I ever knew. Funny too. You would have liked him, Kuro. There was this one time I ran away from home, after I got into a huge fight with dad. I got lost in the dark and there were these dodgy people around. . .I called Takumi. Despite the odd hour, he still came all the way to retrieve me. I wanted to thank him, by giving him money or. . .but he wouldn't take it. Said 'I know you'd do the same for your friends too-" Shiori poured a shot for Kuro and handed it to him. Shiori sighed, before continuing.

"- one night. . .shit happened. It always does, huh? They told me it was a dealing gone bad. Three bodies. Two were dead straight. The third was Takumi. Multiple stab wounds which incapacitated him but didn't immediately kill his stubborn ass. Autopsy report said it took 30 minutes for him to bleed to death."

Kuro downed his shot.

"Cops didn't respond to the altercation reported at that alley. There was time to save him, but they didn't come," said Shiori.

"Why?" croaked Kuro.

Shiori shook her head in a shrug, her eyes glimmering with tears.

"He died at 19 in the darkness. He was never going to go to university. Never going to get a proper job. Society wrote him off a long time ago. I still miss him like crazy," she ended the last line in a whisper.

Shiori took a swig straight from the bottle this time.

Shiori had losses in her life - most people did not know about, realised Kuro. He took the bottle from Shiori.

"Ren doesn't know about him, does he?" asked Kuro.

"He does not. I guess you can tell they look kinda alike, huh?" said Shiori.

"I think it's incredible that Ren happens to have that shady kid reputation at school too," said Kuro. No wonder Shiori got close to Amamiya.

"Meeting Ren for the first time. . .was. . .befuddling. Even now, he makes me unsure. Of how he reminds me of Takumi at times," said Shiori.

Kuro tightened the lid on the Smirnoff.

"I never said it to the boys, but I do feel sorry for Ren. Yuuki Mishima should have never leaked his record," said Kuro.

Shiori's eyes widened.

"Mishima was behind that?" she said aghast.

"Yeah. Takao is a moderator on this forum, from where the details emerged. He secretly figured out Mishima's handle a while back."

". . ."

For a few minutes, they comfortably settled into the audio space of just music filling the room. Finally Kuro spoke:

"This was a one-time thing, huh?"

"Yes."

Kuro nodded. He was not upset in the slight. In fact, he liked Shiori for her honesty and chill. No lies or drama.

"But we don't need to be strangers after this," added Shiori.

"Friends?"

"The sort I'd help at 2 am," chuckled Shiori.

Kuro smiled back. He checked the shelf under the TV, perusing through the PS4 games Shiori had. He picked out one game. _Knack 2_.

"I see you have a second controller. What do ya' say?" prompted Kuro.

"I love Knack! Yes!"

* * *

 _Next day. Recess._

Shiori glared at Mishima from across the classroom of 2-D. The boy sat at his desk, hunched and looking down, not doing anything in particular. For a class representative, he surprisingly had no serious friends. Not that it incited a shred of sympathy from Shiori.

"Did he spit bubble-gum at the theatre?" asked Ren, noticing who Shiori was eyeing daggers at.

Ann was sitting on Ren's desk, her shoes off. Every now and then she would nudge Ren's thigh. Ren pretended not to feel this, not wanting to give Ann a point over some invisible scoreboard he was paranoid about. Earlier on, Ren gave up on trying to get his glasses back. Ann was wearing them. Like a dork. OK, maybe too cute to be a dork, Ren conceded, annoyed. She looked adorably quirky with them. Quirkdorkable.

"Theatre?" asked Ann.

"Shiori lives in this theatre in Yogen-Jaya. It's practically a ten second walk from my place to hers," explained Ren.

Ann made a face which Ren did not understand.

"Oh," was all Ann said.

Shiori loudly exhaled, not fully paying attention to Ann and Ren.

"You know how on the first day, the entire school just happened to find out about your criminal record, Ren?" Shiori said in low-speak.

"Hmm," affirmed Ren, with a yawn.

"Kamoshida had that wanker leak everything," said Shiori.

Ren's eyes widened slight. He looked to Mishima. The boy was getting up and leaving the classroom.

" _That guy?_ But why would he? I mean we never even spoke once at the time," asked Ren.

"He's on the volleyball team. Maybe Kamoshida did that power-control thing, like he does to everyone else on the squad? Threaten to kick him off the team or something," said Ann.

Ren's expression darkened.

 _Must be precious being on the volleyball team_ , thought Ren.

Ren's phone buzzed. He read the message.

"Ryuji?" asked Shiori.

Ren nodded.

"He wants to talk in the alcove. Something about an airsoft shop," said Ren, getting up.

"Are we going to the Palace today?" asked Ann.

Ren read the rest of Ryuji's message. Interesting. If this was true. . .it would help them a lot. Ren also remembered that goth doctor in Yongen-Jaya. Morgana had mentioned to Ren this morning that he overheard people in the neighbourhood whispering about 'special medicine' Tae Takemi had. Could it be useful for their taxing activities in the metaverse? Ren hoped so. He planned to make a visit to the clinic today.

". . .no. Not today. I wanna check out a couple of things first. We'll also use this as a breather. . .after our near brush-in with the Kobayakawa-Dragon. Catch you girls later," said Ren.

As Ren was leaving, he overheard Ann ask amiably, "So Shiori, what do you do for fun in your spare time? Shopping?"

* * *

"You learned all of this, how?" asked Ren.

Ryuji mimicked cat ears.

"From Morgana. When we fought Incubus, he used this slingshot like an actual deadly weapon. I asked him about it and he mentioned that model guns could be our ranged weapons. You know about all that stuff about them cognition, right?" asked Ryuji.

Ren rubbed his eyes, trying to stay in the moment. It was normal for him to be sleepy by recess, but not _this tired_.

"Yeah. Perceptions and ideals are amplified and made to be real. . . _oh_. . .I see where you're going with this," said Ren.

Ryuji nodded.

"Yeap. When our enemies see those replica guns - and by the way, they can look very convincing – their cognition will lend power to these fakes, makin' them like real guns in the metaverse. We'll be able to hurt them with just model guns!" said Ryuji, excited.

It was very plausible, Ren thought. It could work.

 _Our enemies' cognition makes impotent things become powerful. I wonder if the same happens in the real world, in ways people don't notice_ , thought Ren.

Ryuji tapped his phone. Ren's BlackBerry buzzed.

"I've sent you the store location to your phone. Your Maps app will be able to pick it up from IM," said Ryuji.

"Cool. I'll check the place out. Got another stop to make on the way today, so I think we'll head to the castle tomorrow. And hey, good job picking up on this," said Ren.

Ryuji could be a hot-headed idiot sometimes, but he was always that guy caring and thinking about the team, Ren decided.

Ryuji grinned.

"Nuuuu problem."

* * *

On the way back, Ren decided to stop by the washroom. His insomnia was making his eyes sensate tiredness. A cold splash should curb it until school's over. Approaching the boys' washroom, Ren saw a guy hunched over by the entrance. Students pointed and whispered at him. A group of senior boys were straight up laughing at the student. The guy had blue hair. Mishima?

As Ren got closer, he was startled to see Mishima breathing heavily and sweating. Mishima clutched his chest, his eyes darting to all the students staring at him; his legs locked on the spot.

Ren recognised what this was. An anxiety attack. Mishima must have sensed it coming and tried to get to a safe spot, where no one would see him like that. How long had he been standing there?

Ren considered leaving him be. What was his own imperative to address this guy's dilemma? Considering what Mishima did to him, Ren knew people like Mishima usually proved to be a liability. Eternal victims to their emotional demons which did not settle for one person to drag down. There was nothing Ren could gain from helping out this normie. So. . .

Ren sighed. It sucked having a conscience.

Ren grabbed Mishima by the forearm and dragged him into the washroom. Ren opened a vacant stall and guided Mishima into it.

"Look at me," said Ren, his voice was cold.

Mishima looked at Ren - still shaking. The toilet stall's barriers rattled when Mishima's arms involuntarily struck against them. Dude was breaking down and it was messy.

 _That won't do. You need to show emotion to reach Mishima_. _Compartmentalise your dislike for this guy_ , thought Ren.

"Just breathe, OK? Nothing bad is going to happen to you here," said Ren, his voice kinder and humane.

Mishima's erratic breathing stabilised gradually. Mishima nodded to Ren. Ren stepped back to give Mishima some breathing room. Mishima sat on the closed pan of the toilet, sitting out the temporary.

While Ren sploshed his face, he made conversation:

"You're Yuuki Mishima, right?" said Ren, watching Mishima from the mirror.

Mishima nodded.

"I'm Ren. Ren Amamiya. Nice to acquaint with ya, Mr. Class Rep," said Ren.

It seemed like most of the attack was over. There was shiny sheen of sweat on Mishima's forehead. Ren suppressed a grimace. Considering his last intimidating encounter with Mishima in the nurse office, Ren was surprised he did not make things worse for Mishima.

The bell rang, signalling the resumption of classes.

"Anyway. . .I'm heading back to the classroom. You're going to be alright?" asked Ren.

Mishima nodded.

 _O-Kay_ , thought Ren. He sounded like Shiori in his head.

Before Ren was out of the washroom, Mishima spoke out, "Thank you."

Guess he does have a voice box, thought Ren.

"Don't sweat it."

* * *

 _After school. Central Station, Shibuya._

Ren felt Shiori press her hand into his. When those slender fingers unclasped from his hand, Ren saw his glasses.

"I convinced her to give it back. Also played wingman to help smooth things a bit between you two," said Shiori.

Ren wiped the lenses before wearing the specs. Through it, he saw the hive of bustling commuters of Central Square droned around Shiori and Ren. They were near the lottery ticket machines, double-checking the GPS directions to the airsoft store. Ren could distinctly smell tobacco from a confraternity of smokers near the vent house.

"Wingman?"

Shiori propped hands on hips.

"Don't tell me you don't want a shot with _Ann Takamaki_? You know, the mixed ethnic model who sits in front of you? Happens to be beautiful – oh wait, I don't need to tell you that after Princess Ann," snickered Shiori.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. I'm not really interested in Ann," said Ren.

Big. Fat. Lie.

"What? You prefer penis? I guess Ryuji isn't half ba-"

"Look, how about we just get this over with, okay?" said Ren. He began walking.

Shiori caught up, in-step. Ren and Shiori entered a main street which accoladed a diner, a burger joint, a bookstore, cinema, etc.

"We're not dropping this. Really, I wanna know. Do you like Ann? And don't lie to me, Ren," said Shiori.

They took a left turn into an alley.

"I. . .I don't know really. I can't figure it out with, Ann. Do I find her attractive? Yes. I mean, just look at. . ."

"That fine piece of ass," Shiori winked.

"Not what I was going to – okay. . .maybe I was going to say something like that. But that's not the point. We've got serious matters to deal with. Like stealing Kamoshida's heart," said Ren.

They stopped in front of an obscure looking store named _Untouchable_.

"See? That is why you're going to explode into a thousand little screaming Rens one of these days, from all the stress. You're too busy stuffing _serious matters_ up your arse. You oughta take a break to stuff your dick into some girl's arse every now and then," chittered Shiori.

"Riiiight. I'm guessing you pegged Kuro last night?"

"Nah mate. But I might peg you if you stay insistent on being such a no-fun hardass."

On entering _Untouchable_ , Ren found the airsoft store to be a little musky and dusty. The store bell rang again as Shiori followed behind Ren. A surly manager sat by the counter, his feet plopped on it. Ren saw a lollipop stick jut out of his grimacing mouth. The manager raised his head to the new customers. Ren noted the tattoo of a tail of some animal, trailing from the back of his neck. The manager did not seem menacing. Not quite. But there was something gruff about the guy.

Ren looked back at Shiori, flashing his eyebrows. _Now what?_

Shiori scanned the shelves of the airsoft and model guns. Hey, there was even a compound bow, thought Shiori.

"Prices are as marked. No cuts," said the manager. He lowered his head again.

Ren shifted his weight to one foot, leaning to Shiori.

"See anything you like?" whispered Ren, not understanding why he felt the need to whisper in this strange store.

"What's more dangerous than a samurai with a tachi?" hinted Shiori.

"A samurai with a tachi and a strap-on?"

That earned a subtle stomp on Ren's toes.

"A samurai with a tachi. . .and an Uzi gun," said Shiori, pointing tip-toe to a sub-SMG shelved above the store manager.

Ten minutes and a transaction later, Shiori and Ren left _Untouchable_ with packages. Mini-Uzi for Shiori, Makaronov handgun for Ren, Granneli M3 shotgun for Ryuji and a Blitz MG for Ann. Next stop, _Takemi Medical Clinic_.

* * *

"Yes?" prompted Tae.

Shiori was taken-aback by Tae Takemi's style. Shiori knew there was an oddity of a doctor in Yongen-Jaya, but she was not expecting someone like this.

"Oh hello, Ren," greeted Tae.

Ren was standing behind Shiori at the clinic reception room.

"Hey Tae," he said.

 _First name basis?_ Thought Shiori.

"What can I do for you two?" asked Tae.

Shiori's cold hands grabbed Ren by the arm and pulled him closer to her side. Ren blinked and blew a puff of air when Shiori leaned against his shoulder, getting some of her hair strands on his mouth.

"It's a couple consultation. Birth control and. . ." Shiori looked up at Ren and sighed forlornly.

Shiori leaned closer to Tae, her forehead pressing against the glass barrier between them.

". . .and he needs some endurance medicine. Do you think you have anything like that?" Shiori breathed to Tae, her breath fogging up the glass with each syllable.

It took all of Ren's willpower to prevent his bruised male ego from breaking their cover story. Why couldn't they go with some boring excuse like needing medicine for studying for exams or something? He complained to Shiori outside the clinic. To which Shiori said, " _Who the fuck needs stamina meds to read a fucking textbook?!_ "

Tae blinked several times at the two teenagers. Sure, Tae was not that kind of conservative that she would turn away adolescents who came for requesting birth control and questions about sex. But the demure confidence Shiori used to pop the request was making Tae imagine that there was must be some Olympic-class BDSM marathon happening in that old man's café, upstairs. Or was that just Tae herself, projecting her own sex drive and tastes onto people? Well, whatever.

"Umm. . .yeah sure. You can head right in now," said Tae.

In the examination room, Ren let Shiori do most of the talking while he sat with mostly a poker face, through the graphical and fictional recounting of Ren and Shiori's 'extracurricular activities' after school. The raunchy details Shiori described would have made even Satan exclaim, "Y'all need Jesus!". As Tae fired off each question and got her answer, she occasionally looked at Ren with a face that said: 'For real? You did _that_?' Ren would thinly smile back while screaming on the inside. Shiori was right. When was the last time he relieved himself?

At the end of it, Tae said, "Well I can prescribe you these from the dispensaries. . .come to think of it, I might have to restock on that one," said Tae, glancing over her shoulder.

Shiori leaned forward.

"I heard you stocked up something more. . .exotic?" asked Shiori.

Tae looked blankly at Shiori. These two had heard the rumours about her practise and were after _that_ medicine.

"You were after my rumoured original medicine from the beginning," stated Tae.

"Is it unusual to want the best? Surely you'd agree that pleasure must take no compromise," said Shiori.

Despite the fake veiling earlier, Tae was liking this schoolgirl more and more. Shiori seemed to know what she wanted and was perfectly comfortable about it. In a little way, Tae was envious of her young and curious energy.

". . ."

Ren watched Tae ponder their true intentions. Was she going to chase them out?

Tae glanced at her clipboard. Then opened a program on the computer to her right. Ren saw a database of numbers and rotating diagrams of human anatomy on the screen. Tae bit her lips.

"That medicine is not ready," Tae finally said.

Shiori's shoulders slumped.

"But-"

Shiori perked up.

"It can be. If you two are willing to submit yourselves to testing developed samples, to achieve a prototype formula for the final thesis. Guinea pigs, you could say," said Tae.

"You need two people?" asked Ren.

"Trial testing is conveniently done with both genders, due to the physiochemistry factors. Looking at yours and Shiori's weight, height and body type. . .as well as your medical histories, I'd say you're both perfect for trial runs. Of course, it will be off the books. Anything happens to either of you-" Tae shrugged, "-it won't be my problem," said Tae; she allowed herself a little smile.

There's no way they'd have the guts for this, thought Tae. This should scare them off.

Before Shiori could open her reckless mouth, Ren asked, "Can we think about it?"

Ren shot a look at Shiori when she looked back annoyed at him. Stand down, he silently warned. Shiori rolled her eyes at him and pouted. She did not say anything.

"Of course, you may," said Tae.

Ren nodded.

"Thank you for having us today. We'll take the regular prescribed medicine you were going to give, for now," said Ren.

"And the contraceptive pills," Shiori added.

X

"I _hate_ you," seethed Ren, when they were outside the clinic.

Shiori accidentally burped in reply. She was drinking an energy drink on the train. Ren frowned at her.

"Ooops. Sorry," grimaced Shiori.

"We are not telling any of the others about what we're doing with Tae or how we're procuring the medicine, all right? That dodgy woman and her conditions would only add mental weight to the team," said Ren.

"Speaking of, don't you think we should have a name by now? The team, I mean," said Shiori.

"If we agree to the risky trials, I vote for 'Dumbass Squad'," muttered Ren.

"Oooh, like a _Suicide Squad_ reference? We do have a Joker and a pyro user already," Shiori replied sarcastically.

There was a meow. A black cat paddled up to them.

"Hey, you two. Did you just come out of the clinic? How'd the medicine procurement go?" asked Morgana.

"Absolutely perfect," grumped Ren and he trudged away to Leblanc. Shiori stuck her tongue out to his retreating back.

"What's his problem?" Morgana asked.

Shiori pushed some loose strands on her forehead back. Upon feeling her flushed face, Shiori realised she heated up herself too with all those lewd stories in the clinic.

"Someone was reminded today of how sexually frustrated they are," said Shiori.

* * *

Caroline felt the cold-water push against her ankles, as she waded through the shallow stream, feeling her hands in the water. She felt something soft. Was this her hat? She lifted it up, veins of water spilling down her forearm. It was her hat. Soggy. But mostly ok.

"Did you find it?" asked Justine.

Caroline scowled.

"Yeah, thanks for helping me find it," huffed Caroline.

Around them, dimpled sunlight filtered through the dense bamboo forest. Justine was crouching by the stream, watching Caroline wade back to bank. Some of the sunlight fell on Justine's head, setting a fiery glow on her platinum hair.

"You were lucky the stream did not carry your hat to the edges of this Palace ruler's cognition. It would have been forever lost in the eternal limbo of the metaverse and its oceans of human consciousness," said Justine.

Caroline wrung her hat as hard as she could, try to get most of the moisture out.

"Is master done yet?" asked Caroline.

Justine peered back, to the path that led to the central place of this Palace. A Japanese castle.

"No, I think he's still speaking with Satanael-" Justine frowned, "-I do find our master's reasoning for choosing this place, strange," said Justine.

Caroline ballooned her cheeks in dismay at her wet hat. She carefully placed it on a flat rock that was getting a spot of sun.

"Who do you think was that girl, Master mentioned? The one that would be the tipping point of whether Trickster will win against _him_ ," said Justine.

Caroline waved her hand to the stream. On the water's rippling surface, the reflective image of a girl appeared. It was Ann. She was sitting in her apartment living room, video-chatting with her parents on a tablet.

"Obviously it's her," said Caroline.

"Hmm."

Justine waved her hand. The image on the water rippled. It changed to Shiori who was serving fatty tuna for Morgana's dinner.

"My bet is it will be her," said Justine.

"A bet? Ha! It's on."

"Although. . ." Justine began, her face thoughtful, ". . .there is a third person we haven't considered. It's improbable. But not impossible," Justine waved her hand again.

The image changed. Caroline stepped closer to it, frowning. The new image was a bit dark at first, so it was hard for Caroline to make out who Justine meant. But slowly the contrast changed. A dark-haired girl with a red rope clover for a hair accessory was leaning to a bed-ridden father. Hifumi was feeding him miso soup.

"You gotta be joking? _Her?_ She's already. . ." Caroline trailed off.

Justine shrugged.

"As I said. Improbable."

* * *

 **Originally, Two Handcuffs (then untitled) was supposed to be a very heavy smut P5 fanfic with little emphasis on story/AU. It was not until I read _To Reign in_ _Hell_ 's prologue segment (by Dad of War), when I felt inspired to write something more original with my own sense of deconstructing the game's story and characters. Shiori was created here, purely on the idea of having some sort of female equivalent MC like P3 has. I later did some balancing to the story notes to make her space feel natural. Not too much spotlight on her, just enough to make it her presence in the story feel organic while having a relevant impact to the AU story.**

 **I guess we're at that point in the story where the smut roots are showing, but in an evened out way (I hope? lol).**


	13. Hint of Her Madness

_8:50 am. Sunday._

Shiori scrolled down the web page, her eyes scanning the article. It was about one of the mental shutdowns of a subway coordinator.

… _ **investigators found the culprit to be at a loss for words and memory of his crime…**_

Peculiar, she thought.

… _ **family members said the coordinator was acting perfectly normal in the hours preceding the accident. They found his actions 'to be that of a completely different person'…**_

Now that took Shiori's interest up a notch.

… _ **no traces of psychological tampering were found…**_

What was it that Morgana said?

 _. . .the Palace ruler undergoes a 'change of heart'. . ._ _The best part of all this? Nobody will be able to connect you guys to it when it all goes down in the real world," said Morgana._

"Interesting," murmured Shiori.

The Nokia's screen lit up. New messages in the squad chat. Shiori chose to ignore it for now. Shiori grabbed a sticky notepad which she normally used for highlighting study notes. On the blue pad, she scribbled: _Are the shutdowns random? Or is there a pattern to the targets?_ She peeled off the note and went over to her bulletin board.

There were three items pinned on it. First was a picture of Tokyo, a night skyline shot to represent the city. Maybe she should have pasted a map of Japan instead? She wondered. Well, it was not consequential, she decided. Shiori stuck the note under 'Tokyo'.

Shiori took a step back, fixating her chin on her hand. Her eyes flicked to the second item. It was a card Shiori pulled from her deck of playing cards earlier. The Joker. Obviously, that was meant to signify Ren. That one already had two notes under it. _Why?_ Said one of them. To an outsider, it was of vague context. But to Shiori, that 'Why?' posed an important question to a great mystery. Why did they get their powers? Kamoshida was tasty bait for them to exercise some giddy payback justice. It was easy to lose sight of the general picture when there was such an evil target to take down. Shiho's death itself was unfortunate, yes. But it was also suspiciously convenient to the premise. Shiori did not plan to just roll with this whole heroic-ops blindly. There was something bigger than herself in the works, and Ren had been the catalyst for all this.

The second sticky-note under the Joker read: _Secrets_. Ren knew more then he was letting on about all of this. This especially bugged Shiori. Ren was planning something. Shiori did not know what it was exactly. Maybe she had a good guess of _who_ it involved, but there was no way Ren was just going to roll over to confirm or tell her everything. It irked Shiori that Ren was holding back with her. She was starting to feel entitled to his entirety as a person, his feelings and thoughts. Ann was probably going to have his body eventually and Shiori was fine with that. Shiori knew the real deal to _owning someone_. No, it was not something as primitive as what people called 'love'.

Shiori shook her head, snapping out of that line of thought. Her eyes fell to the third item on the study board. Shiori spent a long time thinking about what to put in that slot, for the questions she mused. She eventually settled for a line. It read: _Does a rat in a maze still have free will?_

After all, the rat in the maze does not decide what the maze is like.

 _And you're the rat_ , _Kamoshida_ , thought Shiori. Maybe everyone is.

Was Kamoshida going to lose his privilege of free will? Or his privilege of self-deception that his choices matter? Of course, Shiori knew there was another side to the topic of changing Kamoshida's heart. One could ask, is it more important for a person's nature to be arithmetically sound of good morals and abiding the rules. . .or letting them be human in nature?

Shiori's phone beeped again. She slid down a cover from the top of the study board - a projector screen she attached, hiding Shiori's starting points on investigating these supernatural happenings. Shiori did not believe (yet) that there was a supernatural aspect to the mental shutdowns, but hey, it did not hurt to file that for future reference.

Shiori checked her phone. It read:

_Ryuji: Are we going to the Palace today? _

_Ren: No. _

_Ren: Ann is attending Shiho's funeral today _

_Ren: It would be odd for us to go without her, at this point _

_Ryuji: Man…is she going to be okay? _

_Ren: … _

Shiori typed:

_Shiori: She will keep up _

_Shiori: Ann is grief stricken. But behind all that, I know she is angry. Very angry. _

_Shiori: Outside of the Palace, I don't think Ann really has any friends left now, does she? _

_Ryuji: Nah. Shiho was the only one she had from school. _

_Ryuji: I mean…I've known Ann since middle school, but it was mostly on an acquaintance basis y'know? _

_Shiori: Then we'll hang out with her _

_Ren: Fine by me. _

_Ryuji: Yeah np _

* * *

Ren scratched Morgana's chin while the call ringtone rang.

" _Hello?_ " someone answered.

Ren deflated a bit, a contrast to Morgana's happy purring. It was his mum's secretary.

"Hi Yuki. Are my parents still out of the country?" Ren asked.

" _Ren! Long time. Your parents. . .yes, they are. After Amsterdam, they diverted to Fiji for some eco-tourism holiday_ ," said Yuki.

Weather must be nice there, thought Ren.

" _Are you doing fine? Do you need anything of yours to be sent from the estate?_ " Yuki asked, quizzical.

"Nah, I'm good. I just thought I'd say hi to mum and dad. Thanks for answering," said Ren.

" _N_ _o problem_."

After saying goodbye, Ren connected his phone to his charger and looked around the attic. The place was pretty bare. Maybe he should have asked for his PS4 Pro and a HDR TV. Even the half-dead looking plant in the corner there seemed just as lethargic as the personality of the place.

"Ren, could you come down to help me out with the café!" Sojiro called out from downstairs.

"On my way!"

Before Ren went downstairs, he went over to shut down his laptop on the desk. It had a browser tab opened, talking about a mental shutdown that happened last year. A truck carrying construction materials which lost control at a high speed and crashed. Ren narrowed his eyes to the list of deceased and injured victims. Shiori's name was in the column listing the injured. But what was more interesting to Ren was that Shiori's friend 'Mizuki' was not listed among the dead. Mizuki was left out of the article for some reason. Ren was sure she was real. The online school yearbook from last year had confirmed she was a student at Shujin and pretty much everyone at school said Mizuki died.

Still. . .

Ren re-read the gruesome details of the accident.

How does someone move on from an event like that? What kind of person do you become?

As Ren stepped off the stairs, the doorbell was tinkling. It was very brief. Ren caught sight of someone with shaggy brown hair and briefcase leaving. There were two customers remaining. One was a haughty looking dude, chowing down on his curry at one of the booths. The other was a brunette, a foreign looking woman. She sat at the counter with an empty cup.

"Ah, good. You're here. There are dishes which need cleaning. Apron is just by it," said Sojiro.

The eyes of the female customer followed Ren to the sink. The hairs on the back of Ren's neck stood up. Who was she?

"Another serving, Ellison?" Ren heard Sojiro asked.

"Yes. . .I think I'll stay for one more," said the woman, Ellison.

 _Is she a regular?_ Wondered Ren. It felt doubtful.

Something made Ren turn around in the middle of rinsing a cup. She was still watching him. Ren turned back to the sink quickly before Sojiro chided him. Ellison looked away from Ren, idly studying the café.

"Does your wife help you run this place?" asked Ellison.

Ren's ears perked.

There was a brief silence. As if Sojiro was hesitating to answer. Then he said: "I'm not really the marriage material type. No wife. How about you? Got a man in your life?" asked Sojiro.

Ellison's laughter pealed through the café.

"Nothing permanent. _Yet_ ," she said the last word with a suggestive bit of emphasis.

Ren finished the last of the dishes and dried his hands. Ren hung the apron and joined Sojiro by his side.

"Too busy for dating?" asked Sojiro.

Ellison traced the rim of her mug, looking down at the fuming dark roast. She braced on one hand, her eyes distant in thought.

"I guess it's hard to find a guy who knows what he's doing," said Ellison.

Sojiro's chest puffed up.

Ellison added, "And has the stamina to keep up with me."

Sojiro deflated a bit. Feeling embarrassed for the quinquagenarian, Ren pretended he did not hear that by looking distractedly at his phone. Ellison studied Ren closely, an amused curl rising from the corner of her mouth.

"You're a part-timer here?" Ellison asked Ren.

Ren looked up from his phone.

"Yes."

"What's your name?" asked Ellison.

Ren hesitated. There was something artificial about this woman's bantering. Nonetheless, he had to answer. Sojiro would not appreciate him being rude to Leblanc's patrons.

"Ren Amamiya," said Ren.

Ren felt an immediate sense of regret, as if he exposed something that would turn back against him. Ren did not understand why he was feeling paranoid. Ellison was just another customer like Tae in the passing. So why this feeling?

Ellison nodded, mouthing 'Ren Amamiya' to herself.

"That's a nice name," she said, nodding approvingly.

Ellison took a few more sips then picked up her handbag.

"Thanks for the coffee. It was delicious. I think I may come back for more," said Ellison.

"Thank you for coming," Sojiro said with a small bow.

Ren tensed up when Ellison looked back at him. Maybe Ren imagined it, but in that moment it felt as if a transmission of understanding passed between the two of them - of how Ren felt about her. Ellison smiled at Ren then left.

* * *

"What is that _gaijin_ doing here?"

"It's not right that this outsider should be a part of our funeral rites."

"She's part Japanese. It's not completely bad, mum."

"I'm kind of jealous of her natural fit body, sis. I bet she's got it easy with people."

As were the thinly veiled whisperings from the leaving congregation at Shiho's funeral. Ann ignored most of them, clasping her black-gloved hands in front of her. She stood at the altar, a large photo of Shiho surrounded by candles and flowers. Finally, Ann was the last one in the funeral parlour. Shiho's parents had allowed her permission to have a final moment of contemplation.

Ann liked the photo they chose for Shiho's portrait. Shiho looked pretty and essayed a genuine, beaming smile. It was taken last year. Before Kamoshida's hold on the team went out of hand. Simpler times. Happier times. Times Ann failed to protect. Her eyes tried to cry at the thought, but they were too dry and puffy red. Why wasn't she stronger for Shiho? Ann's regrets drove up her own frustration against herself.

Back at that castle when she awakened Carmen, part of it felt like a catharsis as she lashed back at everything. The tight grip on her whip. The intensity of the flames. What would Shiho have said, had she seen Ann then? Maybe tease Ann about the tail a little. Then praise that she looked great in it because her best friend knew Ann would feel self-conscious and unsure about it. _Trust me, you've made me a cat person, Neko-Ann_ , Shiho would laughingly jest or something silly like that.

A sad smile was on Ann's face. She slowly turned away from the altar and took one step. The first step forward from this. To punishing Kamoshida. To becoming stronger so that nothing bad will ever happen again to those she cared for.

* * *

 _Next day._

Shiori groaned.

"What?" asked Ren.

She nodded to ahead of her. Ren followed her gaze to the entrance of Shujin Academy. Oh. How annoying, thought Ren. In Ren's bag, they both heard a muffled "What is it?"

"Stay quiet and still, Morgana," said Ren.

Ren brought the cat to school today since he planned to take the group to the Palace.

"Good morning. C'mon, hurry up and get to class!" Kamoshida bantered cheerily with the students who entered.

Shiori averted her eyes away as they got closer. Kamoshida noticed the two of them. The smile on Kamoshida's face dropped like an anchor.

"Good morning," Kamoshida said coldly.

Shiori scowled and trudged past him, scarcely sparing a glance. Ren followed behind, also not saying anything.

As Ren was to his side, Kamoshida drawled, "That admirable behaviour won't do you any good once you're expelled. How do you feel at the thought of Shiori being left all to my mercy, when you're not around? You can ask Shiho's grave if you're not sure."

From his back, Ren distinctly felt Morgana shift at Kamoshida's words. The cat must have been appalled by the P.E teacher's wickedness. Ren did not dignify Kamoshida's words with a response. He carried on, to Classroom 2-D.

* * *

During English class, Ren's phone vibrated. He pulled out his BlackBerry lowkey. In-front and behind, Ann and Shiori did the same. There were messages from Ryuji in the group chat, reading:

_Ryuji: So I saw Kamoshida at the school gate this morning. _

_Ryuji: He was standing there, looking at me with this shit-eating grin on his face. _

_Ann: Ugh, that IS vexing…He was probably trying to mock you. _

_Ryuji: Honestly, seeing him like that got me even more fired up about this _

_Ann: Yeah. I was down yesterday during the funeral, but today I'm focused on our operation _

_Ann: And I'm not going to let the king slip away like last time _

_Ryuji: The board meeting's May 2nd, right? _

_Shiori: Yes _

_Ryuji: We just gotta take care of him before then. _

_Ren: I'm ready for this _

_Ryuji: Same goes for me _

_Ann: Me too! _

_Ann: I'll do my best. No going in without me, OK? _

_Shiori: lol _

_Shiori: Why did that read like that was directed to someone specifically _

_Ren: ಠ_ಠ _

_Ryuji: Yeah, be sure to let us know when you plan on going into the Palace, Ren. _

_Shiori: You heard him, leader **(*.*** **)** **ゞ _**

_Ren: Today. We're doing this today. _

* * *

 _After school._

"Good. Everyone's here. The deadline is May 2nd, remember," said Morgana.

They were all at the school rooftop. Shiori was leaning against the fence. Ann sitting on a desk. Ren leaning against the wall. And Ryuji, standing with his arms folded.

"We basically just have to go to that castle and steal the Treasure from Kamoshida, right?" asked Ann.

Ren nodded.

"Yeah," said Ren.

"We'll need to secure the route to the Treasure Room first. Be sure you've got a few days to spare at the very least," said Morgana.

 _Why?_ Wondered Shiori.

"Sounds like this is going to be a lot harder than it sounds," said Ann.

"Give me a refresher on this Treasure thing. I wanna be sure before we go in," said Ryuji.

"A Treasure is the physical form of a Palace ruler's distorted desires. In a way, it's the core of the Palace. Once we steal it, the Palace will crumble. . .I think. Having said all that, even I don't know what Kamoshida's Treasure is going to be. Until we steal it, there's no way of finding out," said Morgana.

"Given that it's important, this Treasure will have to be in the castle's depths and heavily guarded," said Shiori.

Ren pushed up his glasses. Time to roll.

"Ann, you can do the honours for today. The metaverse navigator," said Ren.

Ren intended to make Ann feel a part of all this as much as she wanted to be. A flash of appreciation crossed Ann's face.

"OK," said Ann, pulling out her iPhone.

* * *

 _Kamoshida's Palace_.

The gang had found themselves at the top of a spire. A hazy orange sky crowned the castle. Comedienne found it interesting that she could feel a strong breeze. Seemed like even Palaces were capable of weather elements. Beneath them was a glass skylight, filtering down to the castle church. Through the glass, Joker could make out the indistinct forms of the Jack-O-Knights patrolling the place.

Skull was staring slack-jawed at all the accented exposé that was Ann suit. Just that soft yet firmly shaped cleavage. . .Skull shook his head, snapping out of it.

"What?" said Ann

"Uhh. . .nothing. Just think, we should give you a codename," said Skull.

"Codenames?" prompted Ann.

"Yeah. I'm Skull. The cat is Mona. Ren's Joker and Shiori is Comedienne. It's kinda like this cool black ops thing we got going here and helps keep us anonymous, y'know?"

"What would her codename be?" asked Mona.

"I dunno. . .Catwoman?" said Skull.

Ann cringed. Joker noticed the way her nose would scrunch up at the mannerism.

"C'mon, you guys would keep calling me that? Nooo way," said Ann.

"Yeah. . .let's not go with Catwoman," said Comedienne, thinking about the movie.

"What about you? Any ideas?" asked Skull.

Joker contemplated.

"Hellcat?" suggested Joker, thinking about Ann's ability to conjure flames.

"That sounds better. . .but I dunno, for some reason 'cat' kinda makes it too meek for me. . .I know! Panther!" exclaimed Panther.

"Panther. . .does sounds tight," said Comedienne.

"Why Panther?" asked Skull.

"It makes me feel fierce," said Panther.

"Like a cougar, I bet," joked Mona.

Panther huffed.

"Even if I was that kind of person, I'm too young to be a _cougar_ ," said Panther.

"I like Panther. It's fitting," said Joker, nodding.

Panther's cheeks brightened a touch red at his approval.

"Thanks!"

Comedienne cleared her throat. Joker looked at her. Right.

"What?" asked Skull.

"Comedienne thinks the team should have a name," explained Joker.

"Power Rangers!"

"Ginyu Squad!"

"Nah, Suicide Squad is better."

"Oh! Oh! I know! Dumbass Squad!"

What felt like one thousand stupid suggestions later, they all argued and finally agreed to one name. Although Mona seemed a little miffed for not going with 'Suicide Squad'. Why would they even go with 'Suicide Squad'? Joker thought annoyed. It reminded him of that one afternoon when Kyoko asked him:

" _What would be a useful skill to have if you wanted to kill yourself?" she asked Ren._

" _. . .procrastination?"_

The emotion of the nostalgia must have showed on his face, because Panther leaned into his field of vision, smiling. Her floofy pigtails swayed in the wind. Panther said, "We're going to be fine, Joker."

There were times when he felt, a guy like him did not deserve her kindness. Joker nodded appreciatively.

"All right, Phantom Thieves. We're heading in now," said Joker.

X

The skylight was smashed. Beams of moonlight filtered between the descending figures, landing on chandeliers. Skull landed on one of them - harder than the rest, causing the chandelier's chains to rip out of the ceiling and dip into a momentous swing. Skull held onto the chain and swung like Tarzan - with his other hand holding out his crowbar.

Joker saw lightning arc across the room, thunderbolt smashing four guards to death. Two remaining. Comedienne leapt down to the ground. She thumb-slid her tachi by an inch. Her form wavered and she did a dash-slice against one of the Jack-O-Knights. The knight fell knee first, dropping his mace and fell forward dead.

Panther was more delicate than the others. Relatively at least. She dropped directly in front of the remaining guard and caressed the flustered Jack-O-Knight by the head, like a lover. Its pumpkin head caught aflame.

"Yaaaaaah!"

Panther changed from a caress to smashing the cooked head against the stone wall. The Jack-O-Knight collapsed against it, immobile.

Joker and Mona joined the others on the ground. Joker could smell the smoky crisp odour off some of the dead Jack-O-Knights. Yeesh. Good thing they did not bleed blood. It would have been messier.

"And you said I overdid it," tutted Mona.

"Hey, I made up for it in style," Skull said with a grin.

Joker activated his Third Eye vision. The world became a cinematic shadow. The silhouettes of most of the Phantom Thieves were dark. Except for Panther. Her profile radiated a mix of red and pink, of neon shade. Joker tore his gaze away from her fiery form and surveyed parts of the castle. Joker shook his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Skull.

"I was hoping to pick out the Treasure with my Third Eye, as I did with-" Joker stopped himself. He did not want Panther to know she was standing out in his Third Eye vision.

"With what?" asked Panther.

Comedienne frowned. She stared through at walls, her ears picking out a strange sound.

"You guys hear that?" said Comedienne.

The group quietened. Ren cocked his head. It sounded like whisperings. Indistinct for the most part, although Ren caught a few snippets like ' _die_ ', ' _ice cream_ ' and ' _un-kept promises_ '. Strange set of words.

". . .yeah, I think I do," said Mona.

Joker exhaled in relief. They could all hear it. Good. Last thing they needed was another Princess Ann anomaly like at beach that time.

"It's coming from that direction," said Panther, pointing to a staircase leading down.

"That's where I need to get to. A clue to my missing memories. It's quite near the Treasure Room too," said Mona.

"That's also where the Kobayakawa-Dragon will be," Comedienne said flatly.

"Yeah. I ain't looking forward to that dragon either," said Skull.

Comedienne rested the sheathe of her tachi on her shoulders, chuffing in a pout.

"It wouldn't even like eating me anyway. I'm full of hate and I drink alcohol. I'd taste bitter," Comedienne said in cheery pride.

"Coffee. Bitter coffee at the café. I'd taste like a dark roast blend," said Joker.

"I eat. . .lots of noodles. I'd taste boring," said Skull.

"I like tuna. I guess I'd taste like fish?" said Mona.

Everyone looked at Panther.

"I like eating sweet things. . .that dragon would enjoy eating me," said Panther in a small voice.

 _Yikes_ , thought Joker.

Skull gave a hysterical laugh.

"Nobody is getting eaten today," Joker said firmly.

Comedienne edged to the stairs, peeking down. It was a long way down. Comedienne had a feeling it was going to an eventful traversal to securing a route to the Treasure Room. They already killed off Eligor and Princess Ann. Incubus was dead, so hopefully not too much resistance, right? Also, what was the deal with finding this clue to Mona's past?

"You're leading," Comedienne said to Joker.

Joker nodded. This was their first proper excursion into the Castle of Lust. Joker hoped they did not screw this up.

"Let's go."

* * *

 **You may have noticed, the title has changed. Allow me to explain that. 'I Always Carry Two Pairs Pairs of Handcuffs...Just In Case' (wow - just typing that reminds me how much of a mouthful it was for a title) was supposed to be a placeholder title initially until I was able to think a proper title for the fanfiction. Truth was, back when I was posting chapter 1 & 2 & 3... I was so blank on thinking of a suitable title, I kinda forgot 'Two Handcuffs' was supposed to be temporary as I got more focused on the actual content.**

 **So yeah... _Cyber-Violet Volition_ is the new title and it's here to stay for good. As for the previous title, don't worry. The story is still tangential to it and it may make it into the story as a raw dialogue or some form of thematic (guaranteed). **

**These updates have been coming slow af. So much for trying 5 updates this month -.-**


	14. Black Rose

Joker opened his eyes. Where was he?

"Ack!" he clutched his head. It was hurting.

Joker shakily got to his feet, feeling disoriented and cold. He was having trouble remembering what happened.

Joker surveyed his surroundings. There were tall hedges all around him. Was he in a maze? How did he get here? Joker screwed his forehead, trying to recall the last memory he had before he blacked out. After they had just taken out a few guards, Joker led the Phantom Thieves down the large stairway. After that. . .

Joker gasped, his eyes watering from the hammering in his skull. Did he take a blow to the head? Where were the others? The others. . .

Joker panicked. Did something happen to Panther? Joker flourished his dagger. He needed to get out of here.

#

It was so cold, Panther could see her misty breath in front of her. She had woken up in this maze with a foggy mind. The others were not with her but strangely, her weapons were still on her. What was going on? Was King Kamoshida playing some sort of trick game on them? Panther held her serrated whip at ready, in case some Jack-O-Knight or pixies leapt out.

 _Pixies_.

Something stirred in Panther's recollection of what happened. This had something to do with those chirruping things. Panther wracked her mind. What had happened. . .

X

 _They had made it to the dungeons. Where waterways, cells and bridges were. Joker had split the group for maximum reconnaissance as they advanced towards the Treasure Room. Comedienne and Skull were at the other side of the waterway. Mona was with her and Joker._

 _At some point, Mona was a bit behind the two, studying a bust statue of Kamoshida. Panther sidled to Joker's side._

" _What's your girlfriend like?" Panther asked him._

 _Joker nearly tripped into the water._

" _I. . .don't have one. How's your boyfriend?" Joker spiked back, regaining his composure._

 _Panther pretended to think, tapping a finger on her mask._

" _Not bad. The other day I saw him without his glasses on. I thought he looked pretty hot, wearing black and all that," said Panther._

" _Oh. . .really."_

" _Yeap. Especially with that messy hair of his and how he's always quiet a lot. Which kinda makes him mysterious at times y'know? Sometimes I want to pounce on him and do things that will make him. . .noisy," said Panther._

" _. . ."_

" _Maybe I'll introduce you to him someday," she continued to tease._

" _I doubt you could make him noisy," said Joker, with a touch of challenge and amusement in his voice._

" _Oh pur-leez. You don't know that. Plus, I know he adores me, don't you think?"_

" _Hmm."_

" _Do you think he will fall in love with me?" Panther asked coyly._

" _Some falls are higher than the others. What if he's scared of heights?"_

" _I promise to catch him."_

 _Around the corner a Jack-O-Knight stepped in their pathway. It saw the Phantom Thieves. Panther gasped. The Jack-O-Knight opened its mouth. Before it could call for reinforcement, Joker spear-tackled the knight into the water. They both thrashed in the water, foaming the dark surface as they grappled in Joker's attempts to take him out. At the other side, Skull and Comedienne saw what was happening._

" _Huh? Do you hear something?" Panther heard some unseen guards say. They were nearby._

BANG _._

Oh crap _, thought Panther. Joker's gun had gone off at the water surface. The Jack-O-Knight floated up, dead. Joker emerged, gasping for air._

" _Intruders are here. Send the pixies!"_

#

Skull grumbled to himself, dragging his crowbar on the grass. Stupid maze. Skull was starting to get paranoid there was no exit and that he was getting trolled here. Were the others stuck in the maze too? Skull wondered.

Skull huffed. It was pretty dumb how they ended up here.

X

" _What's wrong?" Skull asked Comedienne as they were trailing the dungeon waterways._

 _Comedienne was stopped at cell. Some of the ones they had passed along the way had prisoners of volleyball players, as per Kamoshida's cognition. It was nothing unusual for Skull at this point. It should have been the same for Comedienne too._

" _There's something different about this one. He's got special bindings on him," said Comedienne._

 _Comedienne leaned closer, gripping a cell bar. Skull went over to see for himself._

" _Whoa," exclaimed Skull._

 _This prisoner was on his knees, his head hanging down. More than that, his arms were pinned against the stone walls with glowing manacles. Also, unlike the other prisoners who had Shujin uniforms, this one wore. . .a prisoner's uniform. At the crown of his head was a ring of ethereal green and blue. Comedienne thought she distinctly made out a bunch of square-ish lines on the prisoner's halo. A maze?_

 _Comedienne looked back at Joker. Their leader was chatting with Panther at the other side of the streaming waterway. Comedienne looked back at the prisoner._

" _It's like he's a criminal in Kamoshida's Palace. Even though we can't see most of his face, there's something familiar about this person. Do you know the implication of this, Skull?" said Comedienne._

" _Nope," said Skull, not getting it._

 _Comedienne dropped her eyes at Skull, in askance._

" _You're not much of a critical thinking guy, are you?" asked Comedienne._

" _I'm more of a boobs guy," said Skull, nodding._

Ya don't say _, thought Comedienne._

 _The prisoner murmured something indistinct. Comedienne's eyes widened when he raised his face to her and Skull. They were looking at a Cognitive Ren. There was something wrong with him though. _Cognitive_ Ren's eyes did not seem to register to the two outside his cell. In fact, his pupils were milky-white. Out of focus. _

_Skull finally caught up._

". . . _there's a_ _Cognitive Ren too? I thought a Princess Ann would be the last one of us," said Skull._

" _It makes sense. Ren has a big-time presence to Kamoshida's cognition at Shujin Academy. This one must have spawned recently since Ren is new," said Comedienne._

 _Skull scratched his head, wondering if his incarnation of Kamoshida's cognition was somewhere in this castle. Knowing the dickbag coach, a Cognitive Ryuji would probably be a broken loser in King Kamoshida's eyes. Skull gritted his teeth at the thought._

" _C'mon. We should tell Joker about this," said Comedienne._

 _They both heard a splash behind them, followed by gunfire. Comedienne and Skull rounded to see two figures thrashing in the water. There was some distant shouting from unseen guards. Then. . ._

 _They came in a swarm. High pitch chittering and squealing of maiden pixies in blue dresses. Squeaks, charms and crass shrilled in the air._

" _You came to the wrong neighbourhood, motherfucker," said one of the pixies._

 _Skull batted away some of them who tried darting in with their tridents. One got too close and got the full smack of the crowbar, knocking its teeth out of its pretty little face._

#

Comedienne was pretty sure she was in the centre of the maze. For one, the hedges surrounding her mostly formed a large square rather than the usual corridor. The other pointer was that the person who vice gripped Comedienne from behind (threatening to twist her neck), told her she was in the centre of the maze.

"Would you really hurt a girl like me, Ren?" Comedienne asked, playing dumb.

It was remarkable. One moment, this Cognitive Ren was imprisoned in a cell. Those pixies came in. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos and blood-spilling, there was a blinding light. When Comedienne woke up, she found herself in this maze, in the clutches of this deviant doppelgänger. On realising this, Comedienne's thoughts went a thousand miles an hour on the situation. Cognitive Ren was being maleficent because that's how Kamoshida saw Ren in the real world. It was not surprising this _thing_ was acting like this. Comedienne could sense her tachi was currently in its immaterial form and not in the sheathe. She intended to use that to her advantage.

Cognitive Ren tilted Comedienne's head by a fraction. Just briefly, her lips brushed against his icy cheekbone. Comedienne felt his unnatural breath tickle her neck as he whispered, "You may have fooled the other me, but I can see through you. I see your dark intentions. Behind your superficial bushido style, behind your sass. Twisted ropes of a twisting noose. Twisted veins of your twisted heart. It seeks to strangle the other."

"You talk a lot for a guy who just got a blade shoved literally through his ass," said Comedienne.

Cognitive Ren's eyes widened. He looked down to his groin. He got caught in the moment of his false triumph. The girl's tachi was pierced through, right to jutting out the other side.

Cognitive Ren collapsed to his knees and fell forward. Like some shōnen anime character, he growled, "Damn it."

Comedienne shook her head, almost disappointed by the lack of challenge posed by this one. Perhaps it had to do with Kamoshida underestimating Ren.

"Wait."

Comedienne paused.

"If you leave me to be incapacitated here, King Kamoshida's pixies will find me and heal me from dying," said Cognitive Ren.

"Good for you."

"You don't understand. Sometimes he visits me, you know? At first, it was verbal abuse. Then. . .it became physical. Each of these new visits-" Cognitive Ren's expression tightened into a sad grimace, "-they get more cruel than the last. There is no end to King Kamoshida's hatred for a convict like me. Kill me here, now. Please," said Cognitive Ren.

Comedienne considered the spectre of Kamoshida's mind. These cognitive students were not a real people, like Morgana said. It was all a figment of Kamoshida's cognition. Yet Comedienne found the ask so humane. Also, this person looked like a duplicate of Ren. Sure, she compartmentalised that this was not the real Ren. But Comedienne still could not bring herself to be fully emotionless when dealing with this one. In a way, Comedienne empathised and fully understood Joker's struggles against Princess Ann.

"You do realise your existence might spring up again in this Palace, eventually. If we leave it unchecked. If we fail to steal the Treasure, something worse awaits you, beyond me chopping off your head," said Comedienne.

Cognitive Ren smiled bitterly.

"I guess some of us are less alive than others. You're lucky to exist with your own individuality and free will. Here, I'm dictated by the laws of this realm, to exist and think in a certain way, no matter what I choose," said Cognitive Ren.

Comedienne unsheathed her tachi.

"And yet, you're still asking me this - knowing that I don't think you're a real person," said Comedienne.

"Knowledge can be both a blessing and curse; thanks to how the king perceives me. The king knows he cannot deceive me, like he does with the booboisie of the school. I'm supposed to know his secrets. It's why he keeps me in a special cage, in enchanted shackles and this mind maze of my will, which the king's sorcerers saw to," said Cognitive Ren.

". . ."

"You should realise by now, in order for you and your comrades to escape this maze, you must break the spell. And you can do that by killing me before it's too late," said Cognitive Ren.

Comedienne raised her tachi. She knew Cognitive Ren did not care about her and the others escaping. He was just manipulating her, egging her to finish him off now.

Cognitive Ren closed his eyes, in acceptance. Comedienne exhaled. Yes, this Cognitive Ren was evil. It could not be helped because Kamoshida thinks he's the good guy in his own school, while Ren is the thorn; immoral and wicked because of his criminal record and rebellion. Comedienne felt incredulous at how inverse this all was.

The tachi swung down. The spell broke.

* * *

". . .in the midst of the fighting, the remaining pixie cast this weird spell that linked up to the Cognitive Ren in the cell. I fink she tried to lock us in his mind prison as a last-ditch attempt," Skull explained to Joker.

"That was my fault, I killed her just a second too late," said Panther, fiddling her fingers.

Joker rubbed his head. Most of the headache had gone now.

"It's not your fault, Panther. It was a hectic smackdown and I took a hard knock, myself," said Joker.

"Cognitive Ren is dead?" Mona asked Comedienne.

Comedienne nodded.

"I suppose he is. We are free of his mind prison and his form is no longer here," said Comedienne, glancing to Cognitive Ren's cell. It was empty. Around them, were the corpses of pixies. Some of the dead bodies were slowly streaming away in the water.

Joker shuddered at the thought of his cognitive self in this Palace. He could only imagine what a jerk his copy would be, being a figment of Kamoshida's opinion. Judging by Comedienne's unperturbed composure, she seemed to share Ren's feelings about being OK with its death.

"Really can't wait to steal that Treasure and be done with this stupid place. Who knows what stupid crap will happen next," said Joker.

"Then let's get going!" said Mona.

X

After much manoeuvring through corridor routes, taking 'shortcuts', a few stealth takedowns and one more messy brawl with an entire battalion, they arrived at one of the lowest underground levels beneath the castle. All that was left was a pulley elevator that led down a shaft to the Treasure Room. Mona told them they did not need to take that front guarded entrance - citing that there was a hidden crawl-space nearby, heading straight to the Treasure Room.

Before the Treasure Room, interceded one of their secondary goals.

"I think. . .this is it. The first clue to my broken chain of memories," said Mona.

It was an arc-ish looking wooden door, with a single handle. The room was in the stone walls. At first glance, Joker would have dismissed it as a door to some wine cellar or something. It did not look particularly special.

Joker shifted one of the dead knights with his foot, making space to stand by the door.

"We don't know what might be in there. Everyone ready?" prompted Joker.

The others returned nods, gripping their ranged weapons tight. Ren held out a hand. Three fingers up. Two. One.

Joker swung open the door, cocking his handgun out. The others followed through, weapons clicking and pointed. Comedienne tilted her head. There was no one here. More remarkable than that was the strangeness of the room itself. Skull looked to the ground, confused. Instead of the usual rich carpet or dark stone, the floor was made of paper.

"This place. . ." said Panther.

Joker lowered his weapon. This was Mona's clue to his past? Joker anticipated a lot of things, but a giant book being the floor was not one of them. The walls were white with a faint shimmer. The book-room was huge. Like the size of a basketball court. Maybe bigger. Mona pawed at the paper. There was nothing written on them.

"What now?" asked Skull.

Everyone looked to Morgana expectantly. Mona clasped his chin, studying the room and thinking.

"Do you see anything with your Third Eye, Joker?" Mona asked.

 _Good idea_ , thought Joker. He activated his Third Eye.

In the dark world, there were still no words on the pages. No hidden levers on the wall either. But. . .

"Over there. The edge of that page is glowing. I think if we try to flip that side of the page, something will happen," said Joker.

Skull and Comedienne took the page's glowing edge, each grabbing the corner.

"Like rolling a carpet I guess. Ready?" said Comedienne.

"Yup!"

They only flipped the page about halfway before it started to glow. Comedienne and Skull released the page. The paper stood vertical in its shimmering. A breeze stirred in the book-room, pushing against the page. Then slowly it fell towards the other three, who were on the other side of the book-room. To Joker's surprised the page turned lightly transparent and fell through them. Then another page picked up on its own and flipped. Then another. And another. It picked up the tempo as the page-turnings became faster and faster.

Panther held out her hand in front of her, marvelling at the phantasms. The pages continued to flip, passing transparent through her and the others. Eventually the wind dialled down. Panther's pigtails settled back onto her shoulders. The page flipping stopped.

Origami figures began to form from the floor. A lamppost by Skull. A park garden there. A corner store here. The folding and unfolding was fascinating to watch as hidden hands formed these objects around the Phantom Thieves. Joker realised the overall formation was supposed to be a street.

Then came the ink. Black was the first colour. The road shaded itself light grey. A car that was stopped haphazardly on the road, shaded its windows dark. A paper-white rose turned black. Comedienne's eyes lingered on the black rose. Takumi had one of that as a tattoo.

Skull gasped.

The red ink came next. It first started on the car's bonnet. A large spraying splat on its indenting grill. A few metres in front of it was a splotch of red – as if the paintbrush was abruptly applied before being lifted. The red started again, further along the road. This time it dragged. A thick and twisting coloration of red with thin tendrils of spread. The red ink represented-

"Look at the blood patterns carefully. They tell a story," said Joker.

Mona started from the car. Someone got hit by it, creating an impact where there was an immediate discharge of bleeding. Mona walked further along. The second point of blood. The person hit by the car was thrown off his or her feet and landed here first.

But there was a third point of blood shading. Which meant that the impact was so bad, the person bounced off the road here then landed a second time on the road and slid in the velocity crash.

Mona knelt at the red dragging of blood - likely where the pedestrian came to a stop after being hit. There was a lot of blood. Could a human survive losing this much? Mona wondered. That was impossible. The cat felt a twinge of worry. Was this individual connected to his past? What exactly happened here? Panther crouched next to Mona, studying the road.

"Look," said Panther.

The gaze of the others followed her pointed finger. Mona's eyes widened. There were distinct red prints. Small footprints. These were walking away from the last point of impact of red. A survivor?

"Someone died. It. . .looks like a traffic-related death," said Comedienne.

"But someone lived. A child," said Joker.

How was this connected to Mona's past? Joker wondered.

"Who's the kid then?" asked Skull, folding his arms.

The Phantom Thieves scoured for clues. Like a name scrawled somewhere. After combing the place thrice, they gave up.

"This is all there is. Do you know a second point of finding clues to your past, Mona?" asked Joker.

Mona shook his head, his ears drooping.

"If anything - this has made me more confused. Am I a dead person?" Mona asked, worried.

Joker frowned. He did not think Mona was the road victim, but it was hard to deny the plausibility of the possibility.

"It's too early to make any assumptions. I'm sure we'll find more clues," Panther assured Mona.

How? The rest of them wondered.

"Yeah. . ." Mona did not sound too confident.

"I think Panther's right. I mean look at this weird book room. Does it feel natural with the rest of the castle?" said Skull.

"It does not. Someone. . . _or something -_ planted this here for you to find Mona. It means you're on the right path," said Comedienne.

Something wet landed on Joker's nose. He blinked. More rain droplets fell.

"Huh?" said Skull.

Panther turned her palms upwards. From unseen clouds, rain was falling in the room. The origami formations around them became soggy and began to deform. The inks became blotched and washed out. Comedienne saw the black rose wilt, going from its dark beauty to some mushy grey blob. It dropped on her feet, short-lived in its novel exhibition. Comedienne swallowed the lump in her throat.

 _Hold it together_ , Comedienne thought to herself.

Comedienne closed her eyes, tilting her face up to the rain - soaking in the sensation. Surprisingly, her make-up did not wash off.

"We've seen what we've needed to. Time to check out the Treasure Room," said Joker.

X

Skull peeked out the crawl-hole, checking to see if the coast was clear. It looked like a typical treasure room alright. Mounds of gold and jewels. Check. Sleeping dragon. Check. Skull quietly slid out the crawl-hole, being careful not to wake the Kobayakawa-Dragon. Skull gestured 'Quiet' to the others who were still in the crawl-hole.

Mona emerged. Then Comedienne. Joker was right behind Panther. They were both still in the crawl-hole. The view in front of Joker was. . .distracting, to say the least. They had been crawling for so long in the passages between the walls, that Ren's eyes ended up adjusting to the darkness - giving him a well-contrasted view of Ann's curvatures in the tight leather suit. To add to the effect, his boner would always rub against the stone wall when he crawled forward. Jeez. Just the way her buttocks would rise one over the other in turns as she crawled forward, drove him crazy. Then there was the centre of attention between her-

Joker exhaled, not sure if he wanted Panther to hurry up or take her time.

Comedienne helped Panther to her feet when she got out.

"You OK?" Morgana whispered to Joker, when he got out.

A poker-faced Joker nodded.

The dragon's breathing sounded liked an earthy rumble. Each snorty inhale and exhale gushed the air around the thieves. Occasionally a trinket, like a ruby-encrusted cup - would tip over from the volatility of the breathing.

"That's it," said Mona, pointing to something behind the dragon.

Joker squinted at what Mona meant. It looked like a shimmering amoeba, floating in the air.

"That's supposed to be the Treasure?" Skull said, sceptical.

"It hasn't taken form yet. We have to return to the real world to draw out its true form. Don't worry. . .we've achieved our true goal for today. By securing the route to the Treasure, we can shortcut straight here the next time - nab it and run," said Mona.

"Hopefully we won't fuck that up and accidentally wake the Kobayakawa-Dragon," murmured Comedienne.

"What happens if we do?" asked Skull.

There was a pause.

"What would you like on your gravestone?" Joker said wryly.

"Pepperoni and cheese, thanks," said Comedienne.

* * *

Ren dropped his schoolbag by his desk and clicked his neck. Palace business definitely had an effect on his real-life body. Ren felt a bit sore. On the bed sat Morgana. After finding the Treasure Room, they exited Kamoshida's Palace and headed home, agreeing to discuss the next course of their plan.

Ren's phone buzzed. He picked it up. It was a conference-call from the Phantom Thieves. He slid for 'Answer'.

" _Alright Morgana, so what's this about drawing out the Treasure's true form?_ " Ryuji asked impatiently.

" _I assumed we could just take it like that, today_ ," said Ann.

" _Same here_ ," said Shiori.

Ren sat down next to Morgana and raised an eyebrow to the cat. Morgana had a grin which looked a bit evil to Ren.

"Hehehehe. You're going to love this next bit of the plan. Up until now, it's been going after Shadow Kamoshida's realm for the Treasure. This time, it's the one in the real world. . ."

* * *

 **Morgana's character arc is currently showing a vast difference to the way the game did it and this is very much intentional. It's different, not purely for the sake of fitting it to this AU, but because I was extremely dissatisfied with the conclusion of his character arc in the game, after all that build-up. So I'm doing something different for him.**


	15. Misdirection

.

"Hehehehe. You're going to love this next bit of the plan. Up until now, it's been going after Shadow Kamoshida's realm for the Treasure. This time, it's the one in the real world," said Morgana.

Shiori's avatar bounced by a slight on the screen. The talking animation.

" _You mean Shujin Academy itself_?" asked Shiori.

"Yes," said Morgana.

" _Uhh. . .Morgana. The main reason we're even going after Kamoshida's heart is so we don't get expelled. I'm pretty sure showin' up to school with weapons tomorrow, would get our asses hauled off the premise and straight to the local precinct_ ," said Ryuji.

Morgana's ears flickered.

"Hey now, don't ruin my moment of grandiosity with political correctness. What's going to happen is that we will publicly tell Kamoshida that we're stealing his heart. It's very important it's done in a way that makes the Palace holder feel threatened, even if the real Kamoshida doesn't understand phrases like 'We're taking your heart.'," said Morgana.

"This will make the Treasure take its form in the Palace?" clarified Ren.

"Yeap. This 'threat' will trigger changes to Kamoshida's cognition and will reach Shadow Kamoshida. Likely the Palace ruler will take measures," said Morgana.

Ren frowned. OK. It was not what he was expecting. But Morgana did sound confident about this and Ren had long resigned his faith onto the cat's guidance.

 _We just have to tell Kamoshida. . .we're stealing his heart?_ Thought Ren.

" _Do we write him an aggressive anonymous letter or something?_ " asked Ann.

"I was thinking, we do what thieves of style do. We send a calling card," said Morgana.

" _All right!_ _I like where this is going. I even got the idea for what colours to use_ ," said Ryuji.

Shiori cleared her throat on the line.

" _I like Morgana's idea. And you know what? Let's really embarrass Kamoshida with this. Let's paste this calling card thing all over the school. That will send a message into his big head!_ " said Shiori.

Part of Ren was feeling excited with Shiori's vehemence. Ren sorely wanted to see Kamoshida's reputation shatter like a castle made of glass. Calling cards pasted all over school would be scandalous, especially when some of the students low-key knew what was happening, while others did not.

" _You know what? I'm in. Let's do this. Ren?_ " prompted Ryuji.

Yet, another part of Ren hesitated.

"We're going to be naming Kamoshida's crimes into these calling cards, right?" said Ren.

"Somewhat. The whole point is to get Kamoshida himself to confess the specifics," said Morgana.

" _I'm ready for this_ ," said Shiori.

As far as society was concerned, Kamoshida is an innocent man. A good man. Once you start pulling off stunts like accusing someone of stuff like physical and sexual abuse. . .as well as pimping, that would be seen as defamation. Especially when doing it in such an extravagant manner that would be seen as slander.

"Ryuji. These cards you will make. Will they be forensic proof?" asked Ren.

" _Huh? Whaddaya mean?_ " asked Ryuji.

"Think about this carefully, guys. I'm prepared to believe that this change of heart could work or worse. If we were to send the calling card, then something happens to Kamoshida - do you really think people are just going to let that go? The authorities could get involved. We're talking about professional investigators and experts who pick up on micro-traces of DNA and all that. The police might come to our school and start asking questions and taking students' saliva samples for DNA matching and before you know it, we'll be in an unwanted spotlight," said Ren.

". . ."

". . ."

". . . _I would be using gloves and all that to hide my prints. But you're right, maybe they might pick up light traces_ ," began Ryuji.

" _DNA. . .I think I know how we can bamboozle twenty-first century forensics with that. They would be very good at picking up any and all traces of genetic prints on these calling cards, right? Fine. We give what the forensics want. But we overcompensate. If Ryuji's DNA is the needle, we'll put the needle in the haystack by using the DNA prints of the hundreds of people who come and go in my cinema,_ " said Shiori.

It was a few seconds before Ren realised what Shiori meant.

"The movie tickets," said Ren.

It was a brilliant idea. Cinema goers were random. People of many ages and occupations, from many different locations. Investigators would be looking at random sets of imprints which would hardly match up to the students at school, let alone the members of the Phantom Thieves.

" _Exactly. A lot of it is always left behind in the cinema. At the seats, in the bins, etcetera etcetera. Of course, we'll have to think about the mechanics of how we'll turn those tickets into calling cards while blanking out where they are from, but I reckon arts n' crafty Ryuji would have no trouble figuring that out,_ " said Shiori.

" _I could dip them in strong red ink before starching them_ ," said Ryuji.

" _There you go_ ," said Shiori.

In that case, there was hardly anything to worry about, thought Ren.

" _Ann? You haven't said much,_ " said Shiori.

Ann was quiet for some seconds as they waited for her to say something. Then Ann asked a question. One Ren hardly expected, in this conversation of all places.

" _Have you folks seen 'Death Note'?_ "

Ren opened his mouth. Then closed it. He was not sure what to say.

" _Death Note. . .isn't that the anime?_ " asked Ryuji.

" _Yes. It's based on a manga to be exact. The story is about a high schooler who finds a strange notebook. He finds out that he's able to kill people in it by just writing their name in it_ ," said Ann.

" _I don't get it. What does this have to do with the calling card?_ " asked Morgana.

" _It's got to do with what Ren said earlier. Like if this change of heart does work. The following consequences_ ," said Ann.

" _We've sorted out the DNA thing_ ," pointed out Shiori.

" _We have but. . .hmm. You know what? I think this will be best explained if I show you guys, episode one and two of 'Death Note' tomorrow. You'll get what my concern is. In the meantime…yeah, I think it's OK for Ryuji to go ahead with making the calling cards_ ," said Ann.

"Do you need any help with the arrangements of sending out the calling cards, Ryuji? Also, how soon can you give the used tickets, Shiori?" asked Ren.

" _I'll be able to give it tonight. We're on a ticking bomb and detonation is expulsion for you two. Ryuji, text me your address after this_ ," said Shiori.

" _Nothin' to worry, Ren. Getting the calling cards out to the school tomorrow will be no problem. I guess all those months of showing up early morning to school for track practice, will come useful here. I know all the staff's schedule and the routes_ ," said Ryuji.

* * *

 _Next day._

Shiori and Ren were on the train to Aomine-Itchome that school morning. Shiori adjusted a loose earphone, which was playing Hans Zimmer's _Beautiful Lie._ Ren was leaning against the train door, hugging his schoolbag and keeping quiet in the tightly packed train compartment. Both had spoke sparing words, only saying morning to each other, before getting wrapped up in their minds. Shiori felt both dread and anticipation for what Shujin will be like today. Ryuji would have put out all the calling cards. . .

 _I wonder how susceptible a guy like Ryuji is to screwing up_ , thought Shiori.

Ren was not thinking about Ryuji. He was thinking about Masayoshi Shido. This revelation that a calling card mechanic was needed to get a Palace ruler to reveal his or her Treasure, complicated Ren's plotting against the bastard. On top of the fact that Ren was not even sure if Shido had a Palace. Ren initially took it for granted that Shido had one, given the terrible thing that he did to Ren. But what if he did not have one? Even 'good' people occasionally did bad things once in a while, but it did not make them twisted. Ren frowned. No. Shido had to be evil. There had to be more to the politician than Ren currently knew.

There was also that woman Shido was harassing. Ren's jaw tightened. The way she sold Ren out at the case hearing, after he tried to help her that night. _When she asked for his help_. She even faked tears, pretending to be horrified by Ren's 'violent punches'. Bitch. You deserve to be abused by Shido-

 _Whoooaa there,_ interrupted his conscience.

Ren exhaled. There were times when Ren did not recognise himself when he thought of Shido. Ren could not help it. Every waking moment, Ren felt the acrid burning of anger in his chest. Ren knew he could not escape this. There needed to be a resolution.

"We're almost there," Shiori said to him.

Ren nodded.

* * *

Ann Takamaki sat at her desk. She glanced about the other students. They were all talking about it. Ryuji actually pulled it off.

"Hey hey! Did you see it?"

"See what? Wait, what are those things on the blackboard? I saw them pasted all over the corridors too."

"And you didn't stop to read them? Jeez. Here, look at this."

". . .holy shit. Kamoshida? Who did this?"

"Phantom Thieves? Sounds like someone who reads too much manga is behind this."

"Yeah right. Kamoshida is not that kind of guy."

"Man, whoever left all these cards all over school is either really brave or stupid as fuck."

"Has Kamoshida seen them? What did he say?"

"The coach was livid. I think the principal called for an informal staff meeting about this too."

Ann pulled back her hood, allowing the morning sunlight to hit her face. Ann closed her eyes, basking in the warmth. Now, more than ever, they were close to stealing Kamoshida's heart. The Phantom Thieves had to succeed, no matter. Passing Shiho's classroom and seeing her empty desk reminded Ann of the painful loss; but also her resolve.

"Morning Ann."

"Good morning."

Ren and Shiori's voice. Ann opened her eyes and twisted back on her seat to the two. They were just settling into their seats.

"You two are early," said Ann.

"We were anxious to see what happened. Also, those episodes you mentioned," said Shiori.

Ren examined one of the calling cards he plucked from a notice board at the school's entrance. The artwork was red and black. Ren found the visuals kind of messy and inarticulate, but the wordings were just perfect. Shiori barely contained her laughter when she first saw it. It read:

 **SIR SUGURU KAMOSHIDA,**

 **THE UTTER BASTARD OF LUST,**

 **YOU MOTHERFUCKER,**

 **WE KNOW HOW SHITTY YOU ARE AND THAT YOU**

 **PROJECT YOUR TWISTED DESIRES ON STUDENTS WHO**

 **CAN'T FIGHT BACK. THAT'S WHY WE HAVE DECIDED**

 **TO STEAL AWAY YOUR DESIRES AND MAKE YOU**

 **CONFESS YOUR SINS. THIS WILL BE DONE TONIGHT.**

 **WE HOPE YOU WILL BE READY.**

 **YOURS MOST WICKEDLY,**

 **THE PHANTOM THIEVES**

"When I read the card, I thought; 'Wait, are we heading to the Palace tonight?'" said Shiori.

"Aren't we?" said Ann.

Ren shrugged.

"It's inconsequential whether we do this tonight or tomorrow. The theatrics of an immediate threat carries a kind of flair. Ryuji outdid himself here," said Ren.

"When does homeroom start?" asked Shiori.

"Not for another twenty minutes. Here," said Ann, handing her iPhone over to Ren. It had episode one of _Death Note_ paused at the 0:03 mark.

Shiori scuttled to Ren's side, scooting her chair with her so she could get a better view of the phone screen.

Ren watched. It started off in a common anime setting. A high school classroom. OK. Then the main character Light Yagami, finds a notebook outside of his classroom. The plot stuff Ann explained yesterday came. Light comes to learn that writing the names of people in the notebook really does kill a person. Later on, a shinigami named Ryuk visits Light and explains to him how he was able to see him. Light then resolves to use the Death Note to get rid of the 'evil' in his world.

Ren frowned. The main character and story seemed different to his own life, but the few similarities made Ren slightly uncomfortable. Death Note. Metaverse navigation app. Ryuk. Arsene. A conviction to change something about this rotten world. Stealing a person's heart.

The episode ending credits rolled.

"I think Kawakami's about to arrive. I'll show you episode 2 at recess. At least for now, you guys are aware we have something in common with Light Yagami, yeah? We're doing supernatural things against the world. Things people would feel we shouldn't be doing. Episode two covers a mistake that Light made, which I hope we can avoid," whispered Ann.

"I see that pattern too," said Shiori.

"The premise has a way of grabbing something within me," admitted Ren.

Ann nodded, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"This was one of those shows that blew my mind when I first watched it years ago. For the most part anyway. . .it should have ended sooner. . .but never mind that," said Ann.

"I like Ryuk," Shiori rasped, like the shinigami.

Kawakami looked a little more awake than usual today, Ren noticed. Maybe it had to do with the uproar that was going around the school about the calling cards. Ren wanted to be there to see the look on Kamoshida's face but Shiori suggested against it, saying him being right there would be too suspicious as they were the only four in the school (that Kamoshida knew) who were against the reigning volleyball coach.

At recess, they all sat around Ren's desk again to watch _Death Note_.

"Oi. . .have you noticed how Takamaki and Oshiro seem to hang out around the transfer student."

"What's the deal with that? Does stabbing someone in the neck get me all the chics too?"

"Bruh. I'm jelly."

"Don't be. Amamiya's a loser. He's a dickhead. I saw him bullying Mishima in the washroom."

"What kind of loser wins Ann-"

"I SAID, he's a loser."

"Aren't you just being jealous."

"Shut up, faggot."

Ren maintained a poker face and kept watching. Shiori and Ann did not seem to care either.

Episode two went into the world's reaction to Light's 'Death Note'. Cults started up. Arguments in online forums were everywhere. It was an international buzz. Ren felt a sense of foreboding, seeing all this. It should not have made him feel this way. Kamoshida is their only target. Light on the other hand, was trying to change the world.

Later on in the episode, the International Criminal Police Organisation are discussing and arguing about the mysterious phenomenon of fifty-two criminal dying from heart attacks. The police seem bamboozled by the unknown method of these mass killings, despite many of the prisoners being kept in highly secured and isolated cells. They resolve to call on the help of a prodigious detective who went by the alias of "L".

Light Yagami is sitting in his bedroom when a live broadcast starts. The special broadcast claiming to be a special international airing identifies a man named 'Lind. L Tailor' who said he's the mastermind detective, _L_. Tailor berates Light, who has come to be known as 'Kira' by the public, saying stuff like "successive murdering of criminals is unforgivable and must not go unpunished".

Ren narrowed his eyes at that. It appeared Tailor was taunting Light. Why? Ren wondered. Tailor goes on antagonising 'Kira', while Light watches the broadcast from his bedroom with the Death Note right there on his desk. Finally, Tailor calls 'Kira', evil. At this, Light gets flustered and in a fit of anger, writes Tailor's name in the notebook. Forty seconds later, Tailor from the live broadcast dies.

 _Well that was quick_ , thought Ren. Light had already defeated his first opponent, _L_. Light mocks the dead Tailor, saying "This could have been fun, had you been a little smarter."  
The broadcast feed cut off from the dead Tailor and instead showed a single stylised letter on the screen, 'L'. Ren's eyes widened.

It turned out Tailor was a fake 'L'. The true L was speaking in a scrambled voice, remarking how extraordinary Kira's power to kill people was. There was an added twist. The special broadcast was not being aired internationally, but in the Kanto region of Japan only. Why?

 _L guessed that Kira/Light lived in this area because that's where the phenomenon first started before it started spreading_.

Ann paused the video.

"You see what I was trying to say?" said Ann.

Shiori and Ren were struck mute by the realisation. Ann resumed the video allowing for the rest of the video to play out. When the ending credits rolled, Shiori sat back on her seat, interlocking her hands at the back of her head. Shiori bit her lips, staring unsure at Ann's phone.

"This might be something we cannot ignore," Shiori admitted.

"That's some good foresight there, Ann," said Ren.

"Thanks," said Ann, beaming.

* * *

After school, the gang assembled at the school rooftop. They let Ryuji watch the episodes while the others talked about the routes around Kamoshida's castle.

When Ryuji was done watching, he said, "So basically, if we were to steal Kamoshida's heart, then Kamoshida confesses his crimes. . .the scandal of what the volleyball coach did would make headlines because Shujin is a prominent school. There's a good chance we would be giving away the Phantom Thieves location to unwanted eyes?"

"I'm betting that could happen. I mean, one journalist might stumble across the detail of the calling cards while interviewing students. From there. . ." Ann trailed off.

"Could they really find us? I mean, I don't mind the police sniffing around the school cuz there's no way they would be able to pin it on us four specifically. Since we're in the clear for DNA traces," said Ryuji.

"We shouldn't be pinned down. There's hardly any proof they could connect it to the four of us and besides, what would the police know about stealing hearts and the metaverse? The nature of our method is beyond their wildest imagination and horizons. . .But. . ." Ren hesitated, thinking about how L found out Light's locale.

"And yet, in a somewhat similar premise, Kira's area of operation was deducted by a detective. I know it's just an anime but you cannot discount the realism. . .actually, what am I saying. . .realism? Heh. After everything that has happened. . .The point being is that we're at that risk of someone being smart enough to find us like that. Do we really want to rely on police and journalists being mediocre, to keep our origin unknown?" asked Ann.

"It is true with criminology. When a serial murderer starts killing that is. Most of the past cases have shown that the criminal likes to start close to home before expanding on his or her area of operation. If I were a detective investigating what the Phantom Thieves did, I'd be thinking somewhere along those lines too," said Shiori.

* * *

 _Elsewhere._

Goro paused from his light novel and sneezed hard.

 _Strange. I wonder if I'm coming down with a cold_ , he thought.

* * *

"But we're not criminals. Are we?" said Ryuji.

"Do you think Batman is a criminal?" asked Shiori.

"Well no. I mean, Batman's a hero. Even if he takes justice into his own hands and the police don't like it. . .oh. I get it," said Ryuji.

"Call me biased but being a criminal never meant absolute shit. Apartheid was once legal. Slavery was once legal. Committing genocide in Europe? That was legal less than a hundred years ago. Homosexuality still classifies people as criminals in some countries. You've got two joints of weed and you're black? Thirteen years in prison for you. Oh but don't worry, corporations buying out legislation to make more money is OK, even if it makes the everyday lives of commonfolk, harder. Fuck these assholes who try to pin authority and legality as our core moral compass," scowled Ren.

"Buying legislation. There was something in the news about that. . ." murmured Ann; her eyes widened.

"Khajit Pie! That's it! He's our misdirection for this thing," exclaimed Ann.

"Whozzat?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori typed something on her phone and handed it to Ryuji.

". . . _spearheading the effort to repeal Net Neutrality is Khajit Pie. An FCC member who has been accused of being bought out by major ISPs_. . . _American social media has taken vitriol against the man for pushing for. . . -_ what the feck is net neutrality?" asked Ryuji.

"The principle that all internet traffic should be treated equal and that your ISP cannot restrict you for what you choose to view. This was supposed to prevent them from trying things like throttling traffic to completely blocking websites. The repeal opens up. . .unsettling opportunities for the American ISPs and media conglomerates. Let's take an analogy; Imagine if the electricity sockets at your home worked only for a specific brand of electronics and not the ones you prefer, all because your electric company owns a subsidiary that makes X products and they don't want their competition's stuff to be accessible," said Shiori.

". . .that sounds. . .bad," said Ryuji.

Even Ryuji got it.

"Wait. You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Ann?" asked Ren.

"After Kamoshida, we immediately go for Khajit Pie's heart. The man trying to repeal Net Neutrality. By causing such an incident on the international theatre, the noise coverage will easily drown out what happened in some high school in Japan. We won't be making Light Yagami's mistake. At least, to the those investigating," said Ann.

Shiori looked at Ann like she was out of her mind.

"Your idea is nuts. How do we even know if Khajit Pie has a Palace? What are the keywords even, for his Palace? Does one of us need to go all the way to the United States of America to steal his heart? This is an American problem, not for us Japa-" Shiori stopped herself when she realised where her words were going.

Ren raised an eyebrow at Shiori. Ryuji was scratching his head, feeling out of his depth. Ann seemed unperturbed; she had been searching up something on her iPhone as Shiori was talking.

"I can steal his heart on my own if I have to. My parents are fashion designers who travel the world for the label they work for. It just so happens, they've got a fashion show coming in New York. Mr. Pie also happens to have a keynote in NY, on the same week," said Ann.

"Doesn't quite answer all my questions. Ren, you also think this idea is completely whack and out-there, right?" said Shiori.

Ann scowled.

"I suppose you have a better idea then?" Ann asked in askance.

"We probably don't even need to misdirect the Phantom Thieves' home base. We can still be careful and not do something stupid like shouting 'HEY WE'RE THE PHANTOM THIEVES'. This is totally jumping the gun here, trying to make grand plans before we've even stolen Kamoshida's heart; Might I add, a conquest which we're not sure of, ourselves," said Shiori.

Ann and Shiori continued to argue.

Ren pulled out his phone and texted his mum's secretary:

_Ren: Did my parents take the company's private jet? _

_Yuki: They did not. Why? Fancying a weekend party trip to Rio again, with the girlfriend? _

_Ren: Nothing hedonistic this time, I assure you. _

_Yuki: What's the destination? _

_Ren: USA. To be exact, I want to be in New York. I might be bringing a cat with me _

_Yuki: NY is great. You'll like shopping there. _

_Yuki: I'll have a look at the G650's upcoming travel itinerary and get back to you on it. _

_Ren: Thanks _

"Ren?" Shiori prompted again.

Ren stowed his phone away and carefully considered the situation.

"For one thing. Stealing Kamoshida's heart takes first priority. We're heading to his Palace after this, if everyone is available," said Ren.

The others murmured in unison that they would be.

"Good. Now this misdirection proposal by Ann. I think we can all agree it is beneficial if we had the luxury of achieving it. But at this point, stealing Kamoshida's heart is an uncertainty on its own. Shiori's right there, Ann," said Ren.

Ann huffed and folded her arms, looking away from Ren.

"Are you still going to try to steal Khajit Pie's heart on your own, even if none of us will be there to help you? Morgana will not be there to lend his advice this time, too," said Ren.

Ren was gauging Ann. He did not want to go to New York, but the thought of Ann being alone there in someone's Palace, bothered him. Ren also did not plan to underestimate the Ann's capacity for stubbornness.

"It would have been nice, if there was a slight bit of encouragement," muttered Ann.

"You don't get it, Ann. If you screw up there, if something happens to you, we won't be able to do anything from here," said Shiori.

"It does sound pretty risky. I mean, Kamoshida's Palace is already hard enough with just the five of us," said Ryuji.

Ann made a 'Whatever' face.

"Fine. I won't try to steal Khajit Pie's heart. But I'm going to New York anyway to visit my parents at the show. Surely, that's good enough for all of you?" said Ann in a very sweet voice. Too sweet.

Shiori frowned. She did not trust Ann's words.

 _She totally going to try_ , thought Ren, groaning inward. Great.

"Thanks. I hope you enjoy seeing your parents," Ryuji said grinning. Shiori rolled her eyes at Ryuji.

Ren sighed.

"OK, I guess we can head into the Palace now. We'll rendezvous at Shibuya Central. Morgana is sightseeing there," said Ren.

Ann held out both hands.

"Wait wait. I need to visit the girl's washroom first. Be back soon," said Ann.

Ann grabbed her schoolbag and headed down the stairs from the school rooftop. Shiori made a face, mockingly miming the way Ann said about visiting her parents. Ryuji recoiled from her.

"I might as well return this library book while we wait," grumped Shiori. She also left.

The door swung shut, leaving Ren and Ryuji.

"Whew. Just two girls and we already got a bit of drama," said Ryuji.

"Tell me about it," said Ren, grimacing.

"Haha. Can you imagine how bad it would be if someone like Makoto was part of all this? That would be the day. Shiori would _hate_ that," said Ryuji.

Ren snorted.

"Then it's a good thing the Phantom Thieves are just us rebels," said Ren.

"Yeah. Haha. I mean, the school prez, a Phantom Thief? Hahaha."

* * *

 **Hahaha. He has no idea.**


	16. Fool Arcana

**Otoro: Japanese terminology for fatty tuna.**

* * *

 _Future time.  
_

Sae Niijima tossed two photographs on the table. Two masked faces. Both now dead.

"Considering the reputation of Phantom Thieves, I doubt orthodox methods were always used. There must have been someone in the group who was proficient in deceiving others. As well as thinking outside the box - in this dangerous game you played with Japan. Answer me this, were you that member?" Sae asked the captured Phantom Thief.

 _She must mean Panther_ , thought the Thief.

"No such individual killed these Phantom Thieves," the Thief answered truthfully.

* * *

 _Present day_.

Ren found Morgana by a blue poster which read _Sapphire_ , in the central area of Shibuya Station.

"Where are the others?" asked Morgana.

Ren looked down at the stairway that led down to the underground concourse.

"They're coming. I had to go in a separate carriage since theirs was packed like a tin of sardines. Got separated in this big place," said Ren.

"Changed your mind about going in with just the two of us? Hmmm?" said Morgana, smug.

Ren sighed.

"Things got. . .complicated. After Shiho died, I realised I couldn't keep manipulating the others to not return to the Castle of Lust," said Ren.

A passing by conversation caught onto Morgana and Ren's hearing range. It was two businessmen.

"The patterns to these mental shutdowns seem too elaborate. Like the other day, another train derailed. The chain-effect of hurting the economy from something like that. . ."

"You think it's terrorism? Maybe another country is screwing with us with mind control."

"That's some messed up mind-control if it's leaving most of its targets dead."

Shujin was dangerous. The trains were dangerous. Japan was going cray cray. Ren furrowed his eyebrows. What was going on with the country? He wondered. Ren sometimes wondered if his train was going to be one of the unlucky ones, when he got on. The reality that Shiori already had a brush-in with a mental shutdown, was enough to make Ren not take his safety for granted.

"Ren," said Morgana.

"Hmm?"

"Is there something you're hiding from the others?" asked Morgana.

Ren looked down at the cat. He knew what Morgana meant, but he tried to deflect.

"Is this about Ann? I don't have a crush on her," Ren said in a naïve voice.

"No. Not Ann. Something more serious-" Morgana hesitated, "-it's just, sometimes in Leblanc, when we're in your bedroom. . .you've got your guard down because no one is looking-" Morgana's voice became quiet, "-and in those sometimes, you've got this look in your eyes. Menacing. Like you've taken off a mask to show the glittering broken glass inside."

Ren crouched to Morgana and rubbed him fondly by the neck.

"Hey hey. St-stop it," Morgana said half-heartedly.

Ren smiled at Morgana. A rare affectation from their leader.

"It is serious, Morgana. Just the stress of stealing Kamoshida's heart, overthinking stuff and saying dramatic things. All of you already know that. But thanks for looking out for me," lied Ren.

"Oh OK," said Morgana, looking relieved.

Ryuji grabbed Ren from behind, putting his arm over Ren's shoulder. The blonde grinned.

"This is it. D-Day. The day we finally take Kamoshida's heart," said Ryuji.

Despite his enthusiasm, Ren could detect a hint of the nervous wreck inside Ryuji. It was natural to feel the nerves, Ren supposed.

"It's kinda funny how no one in broad daylight would notice us leaving for the metaverse. What if a security camera saw us?" asked Ann.

"Morgana and I tested that. I connected a camera in my bedroom and we did a quick in-out of Kamoshida's Palace. When I got back and checked the recording, there was image static at the part from when I left, until I returned. I think electronics in the vicinity malfunction," said Shiori.

"We can rule out someone snapping shots of us coming and going with their smartphone then. That's one less thing to worry about," said Ren.

"It also goes beyond that. Those who haven't been to the metaverse would not be able to realise with their own eyes of seeing someone leaving or returning. I believe the portal to alternate realities bend cognitions, which omits you guys from their awareness," said Morgana.

Ann stared at the creepy app on her phone. Just where did it come from and why did they get it? She wondered.

"How are we going to go about this? The Palace is likely to be in full alert with increased patrols and all that. I bet that dragon won't be asleep this time," said Ryuji.

Ren nodded to Morgana.

"Listen up! The infiltration route to the Treasure Room has been secured. However, there is the problem of the Kobayakawa-Dragon that might think we're delicious tuna. While we might be able to shortcut through most of the danger, we won't be able to relax because of that dragon. There may even be a fight involved with it," said Morgana.

"Is it possible to take it on? That thing looked really strong and I ain't impervious to fire like Ren and Ann," said Ryuji.

Ren flicked his fingers and pointed at Ryuji.

"That's why Ann and I will be. . ."

* * *

 _Later, in the Palace._

"Wish we had an ice user on the team. It would make this dragon less of a dilemma," said Panther.

Joker dragged the tied up golden-armoured Jack-O-Knight to the edge of the platform, by the elevator. The elite captain knight squirmed in the binding ropes and said, "Mmmhhhm mmh Mmmhhm! mhhhhm grmm grhmmm mhm hm!" [Damn you kids! King Kamoshida will make you pay!] through its taped mouth. Joker gave the knight a kick. The knight groaned.

"Stop struggling," Joker told it.

"Will it survive the elevator dropping that hard, down there?" asked Panther.

Joker shrugged.

"We only need them to see the note. If there's a splat though. . .well I hope they'll still be able to read it," said Joker.

At that, the elite knight wailed. Joker sighed at its misery.

"Do you have the note?" asked Joker.

Panther gave Joker a parchment which read, 'WE TOOK THE TREASURE ROOM KEY FROM YOUR CAPTAIN. SEND YOUR DRAGON IF YOU WANT IT BACK.' It was a little on the nose, but Joker was confident it would work on the guards who stood sentinel by Treasure Room. Joker pasted the parchment on the knight's face then rolled him onto the elevator. He stepped back.

Panther pulled the lever, sending the elevator down the chasm. She stood behind Joker, a bit scared of what was coming next. Panther could see Joker was sweating heavily from the heat of being this far underground, beneath the castle. It made him smell a little different than usual; the aroma of coffee beans and a _pour homme_ perfume which Panther could not identify. He smelt a musky. Panther's cheeks burned a little. And here she thought she'd be more conscious of the sweat that was trailing down her exposed chest.

 _Focus_ , she told herself. This is not the place.

Panther was standing so close, Joker could distinctly feel her body heat radiating in waves. It was distracting. Joker shook his head, re-diverting his attention down to the chasm. Did the captain reach the bottom yet? He wondered.

There was the distant clinkling of chains. Then a rumble. The dragon roared. Panther gasped. Joker released his breath. It was coming.

* * *

" _That's why Ann and I will be the ones confronting the dragon head on. If it breathes fire, we'll be all right. We'll be the distraction while you three drop in to nab the Treasure," said Ren._

" _Sounds easy. But will you two be okay? That dragon can do more than breathe fire you know," said Morgana._

" _Yeah. . .like it was ever going to be easy," said Ann, rolling her eyes._

" _We'll manage. Shiori, I'm putting you in-charge of the team retrieving the Treasure. If something happens, you'll be the one making the decisions of what to do as a three-person cell," said Ren._

 _Shiori nodded._

Sweat trickled down Comedienne's temple. They were in the secret crawl-space which led to the Treasure Room. Although Comedienne did not consider herself claustrophobic, the dark stifling space still made her uncomfortable. If the dragon slammed into the wrong direction, against a wall, the structural damage could cause a cave-in the tunnel - trapping the three of them. Assuming no one got crushed in the process too. She quietly swore under her breath, at the thought.

From unseen horrors, the Kobayakawa-Dragon roared somewhere in the castle. Panther and Joker had engaged the creature, drawing it away from Kamoshida's heart.

"Mona?" said Comedienne.

Ahead of Comedienne, Skull and Mona crawled.

"We're almost there!" Mona called back.

 _OK_ , thought Comedienne.

This _should_ be simple. Just run in, grab the Treasure. Meet up with the other two. Then sod off from this stupid castle of a stupid man. Simple and clean, right Utada Hikaru? Comedienne joked to herself.

A light emerged from the end of the tunnel. Finally. The others got out. As Comedienne was almost out herself, she heard Skull say, "Huh? Where the f is the Treasure?"

Comedienne's heartbeat quickened. She made it out and straightened up to survey the Treasure Room. The place was almost similar to yesterday. Mountains of gold coins. Streams of blood rubies and eternal sapphires. Trees of trinkets and precious artefacts. But the most precious of all was not-

"His heart. Kamoshida's heart is not here," said Mona, panicking.

Skull turned to Comedienne, his gaze questioning and confused.

"What now? Should we go back to Joker and Panther? The Treasure's gone," said Skull.

"No. . .wait," said Comedienne.

Comedienne considered the spot from where the Treasure was missing. This vault was still the most secure place in the Palace, despite the dragon's absence. Unless Shadow Kamoshida was that stupid, moving to Treasure to another part of the Palace, where things would be more open - would make it less secure and susceptible to chaos. . .

"I think it's still here. It's gotta be," said Comedienne.

"But where?" asked Mona.

Comedienne furrowed her eyebrows. The castle was on high alert on their way in. There were more guards around and increased patrols. More dangerous enemies too. The Phantom Thieves avoided all of them except the unavoidable dragon. There should not have been enough time to extricate the heart from the Treasure Room the moment the dragon created the uproar.

"This is so dumb!" said Skull, stomping his foot.

"Quiet. You might alert the guards outside the door," hissed Mona.

Comedienne rounded to the Treasure Room large door. It was closed. Which meant. . .

"We're fucked," Comedienne whispered.

Mona's gaze followed Comedienne's.

"Hang on. Why would an enraged dragon take the time to close the Treasure Room door, when being drawn out?" asked Mona.

"It wouldn't," said Comedienne, thumb-sliding her tachi.

Shadow Kamoshida's laughter rumbled and echoed from beyond the door. Skull and Mona drew out their weapons. The doors slowly opened. A loud creaking from the door hinges wailed. Comedienne frowned. What was this slivery and cartwheel noise she was hearing? As the doors swung further out, opening the gap. _It_ emerged. Comedienne's eyes widened.

"Gah!" said Skull, his jaw dropped.

Comedienne had seen her own share of dicks. None of them had been the size of a horse which rode a hot-rod style golden chariot - while having tentacles for hair. . .and being green. Oh and Shadow Kamoshida rode the chariot too, holding a harness over the head of – _IS THAT A MOUTH UNDER THE PENISHEAD?_ Thought Comedienne.

"Where are the other two?! How did you all get past all my guards and the dragon?!" Shadow Kamoshida demanded. Behind Shadow Kamoshida was a battalion of soldiers, assembled like the Spartans of _300_. They barred the main exit out of here.

It took a conscientious effort for Comedienne to tear her gaze from the writhing mass of the Mara persona which Shadow Kamoshida commanded. She looked at the lusty king, her mind briefly blank about what to say. Oh right, the Treasure. Comedienne cleared her throat.

"Yo. . .we just here to take the Treasure then we'll peace out," said Comedienne.

Shadow Kamoshida looked at her like she was daft. From the billows of his red cloak, the king flourished a golden crown in his hand. Shadow Kamoshida placed it on his head. Mona jumped on his paws, pointing.

"That's it! That's the Treasure!" said Mona.

"You're not taking this anywhere," said Shadow Kamoshida.

"It's over Kamoshida! All those people you've hurt. Those futures you've destroyed. What you did to Shiho! You're gonna pay for all that!" said Skull.

Shadow Kamoshida raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Oh. . .? Suzui was a fool not to appreciate my 'gifts' for my satisfaction. Foolish girl. You're all the same too. Not realising I'm better than everyone else!" declared Shadow Kamoshida.

"Enough talking. We're taking that crown by force," she told the other two.

". . .how?! I've never fought a giant penis before! Do I have to touch it?" said Skull looking squeamish.

"I don't think Mara is the only thing here that's. . ." said Mona.

Rose petals snowed into the Treasure Room. Shadow Kamoshida's eyes closed. When he opened them, a sinister red glow emanated. The red petals fell more rapidly, but this time in a formation. They vortexed around Shadow Kamoshida, obscuring him from the view of the Phantom Thieves. A single hand shot out of the vortex, like something breaking out of a cocoon. The petals continued to spin.

Comedienne frowned. This hand held. . .a glass of wine? And Kamoshida's skin had turned pink. The other hand jutted out from the other side. Mona swallowed. This one held a BDSM whip. Devious.

A wine glass and a whip. OK. This shouldn't be too har-

A third hand jutted out, holding a golden trident. Then the fourth, holding a golden dagger.

"F-four hands?" spluttered Skull.

The rose petals started to disassemble. Comedienne grimaced. As if Mara was not disgusting enough, Shadow Kamoshida had transformed. His face had disfigured and warped with to a deviltry personality. Horns grew out off his head. Beast-like teeth bared from his salivating mouth. What came out between his teeth was disgusting. His tongue elongated out; slickery, slippery and slithery. Comedienne saw a piece of dark hair strand was stuck on Shadow Kamoshida's tongue. That hair. . .its texture reminded Comedienne of-

 _. . ._

Comedienne gritted her teeth, white hot anger flaring up in her. She made up her mind. If she was going to die here, she'll take this demonic fuck down with her.

"He's wearing the crown now," said Mona.

"Skull, with me. Mona. I want you out of sight now for an ambush. You're smaller. Try to breeze in and snatch that Treasure when he's not looking," said Comedienne.

"Got it!"

The wheels of the chariot spun, catching fire. Shadow Kamoshida charged to them on his Mara, four hands swinging. Comedienne bent her knees, lowering her centre of gravity. Her hand tightening on the pommel of her tachi.

* * *

The pounding sound of their feet running up the spiralling staircase was drowned out by the screamo dragon roar, that sounded like something out of a B fantasy movie. A spurt of flames injected through an open window, involuntarily making Joker shield his face before he remembered he was impervious to fire. From behind, Panther pushed Joker to keep running.

Outside the castle walls, the dragon tried to pin down these tiny intruders by breathing fire into a window opening, or just smashing through the wall when it thought it could grab one of them and crush in its pudgy claws.

What were they going to do when they reached the main chapel area, where the dragon would be able to fit in? Joker wondered. He was not sure yet. The whole plan relied on just getting the dragon away from the Treasure Room first.

Eventually an archway opening showed. Panther and Joker raced out and stumbled to a stop - by a statue of Kamoshida. They both heaved; trying to catch their breaths. Overhead, Joker heard the dragon roar. Joker looked up, a rose petal landing on his sweaty cheek from the eternal boutique shower. Two impact cracks were showing on the granite ceiling. The dragon was trying to break in from the top. At the end of the chapel's assembly hall, the exit was barred by a golden gate.

Still bracing on her thighs, Panther reached out and plucked the petal from Joker's face. Joker saw a few of the petals had taken base on her blonde hair.

"There's nowhere to run," she panted to him.

Joker checked the Metaverse Navigator app. The 'Exit' option had a lock sign next to it, now that the Palace was on maximum alert. How convenient.

Dust and debris fell from the ceiling as the roof underwent further structural failure from the Kobayakawa-Dragon's beating. A claw smashed through. Then a snout poked into the chapel. The maw of the dragon opened and blasted out a plume of fire, setting alight the wooden benches.

"What magic do you have?" asked Joker.

Panther flexed her fingers.

"Right now. . .I feel I can conjure fire. . .there's actually one more actually, a kind of lullaby. _Dormina_. I've never tried it before," said Panther.

Singing a lullaby. . .a sleeping spell? Joker thought. He had assumed it was a coincidence that Princess Ann had singing spells, like a siren. Could it work? Joker was not feeling too confident about a sleeping spell working on an enraged dragon. It must be one of those roulette success rate things - with special enemies.

"I've got curse and fire. You're right. Ice would have been useful right now," said Jokwe.

Panther surveyed the church's aflamed interior. The flames had not reached them yet. Not that they needed to worry about being burned. Embers and rose petals mixed into ashes of burning beauty. A combination. . .

"Have you ever combined Arsene's curse magic, with other elements? Maybe transmute fire into. . ." Panther fanned her fingers, voodoo-style.

Joker considered it. Up until now, he had used Arsene's curse magic with the same intention as he did with fire spells – a harmful incendiary on contact. The cells of his enemies would deaden upon the contact of the red and black swirly gushes. Could there be a greater application to it?

"Let's get into positions then," said Joker.

Both Panther and Joker blurred from the spot, out of sight. The dragon crashed down, onto the burning wreckage.

The dragon tail-whipped its cannonball tail - smashing through the pillars before burying at the crotch of the king statue. Using Carmen, Panther amplified the fire into an inferno, around the dragon - while being hidden from sight. The orange and red flames licked harmlessly against the dragon's scales. Above the dragon, Joker stood on a surviving chandelier base. Joker pushed his hair back.

 _Here goes nothing_ , Joker thought.

"Arsene," murmured Joker.

Above Joker, Arsene materialised eagle-spread, in some kind of strange mid-air suspended motion. Joker's Persona had sensed something different was going to happen now. Joker held both hands downwards, palm-out. His hands were tingling. This already felt different.

" _Eiha_."

For the first few seconds, it looked as if nothing happened. The heavy dragon continued to roar and swipe through the debris, trying to find the intruders. Then it paused, as if confused about something. The dragon roared, but unlike the previous bellows, this one reverberated throaty notes of pain. Joker saw the dragon raise its hind legs. Joker's eyes widened. The flames were turning black.

 _It worked_ , he thought. Wait, Panther was down there. The cursed fire would hurt her.

"Panther, get out of here!" Joker yelled.

The dragon reared up, yelping. Its dark-flaming wings started to beat, throwing the ruined chapel into a windy pandemonium. Joker couldn't make out Panther in the hurricane of black fire and rose petals. Joker leapt from the chandelier, slashing open a silk banner that came flying at him. The dark Phantom Thief slipped through the banner's gash and landed painfully into the altar. The impact briefly disoriented Joker. He was barely aware of the dragon flying out to the pink sky in desperation to escape Joker's cursed fire. The evil flames refused to leave the Kobayakawa-Dragon, greedily burning through the scales of the dragon.

Joker heard some distant words spoken to him. He could not make them out. A pink glove slipped into his dimming vision. Someone was helping him walk out the place.

"…hear me? Hello? Earth to Joker," said Panther.

Joker blinked. Ann had her mask off - shaking Joker by the shoulders. Joker took collection of his surroundings. They were back in the staircase they run up earlier.

"That was kinda scary," said Joker.

"I didn't want to you leave you there. Do you think we got the dragon?" asked Ann.

"I will be surprised if it survives that," said Joker.

"Do you feel OK? That was a rough landing you pulled off back there. And you haven't noticed your pinky is bent the wrong way," said Ann, giggling.

Startled, Joker raised his left hand and saw she was right. His entire body was in such an ache from the landing; that this dislocation got drowned out in sensation. Joker grimaced, examining the finger which jutted the wrong way.

"Here. Let me," said Ann.

Ann gently took Joker's hand.

"OK, in 3. . ."

Joker tensed, having second thoughts. Maybe they should just wait until they find Mona to heal it.

"Ann. . ."

". . .2-"

Ann snapped the finger back into place. Joker gasped, more surprised than discomforted by the spike in pain.

"There," said Ann, trying to suppress a satisfied laugh.

Joker squinted at her.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he said.

"Maybe a little."

The duo made their way back to the others.

* * *

The wheels of the chariot jammed, the wheel spoke locking against the crowbar that was thrown in. Skull was hugging Mara, riding rodeo as he tried to electrocute the Shadow to death. Mara, not appreciating the literal wanker, frantically tried to shake Skull off.

"IIIII HAAAATE THIS!" Skull screamed.

Comedienne was also on the chariot. Shadow Kamoshida's tongue had wrunged her and was pulling Comedienne towards him like some hentai tentacle monster. Comedienne tried to dig her heels, straining to pull back. Shadow Kamoshida jerked her forward. Comedienne made a last-ditch effort and stabbed her tachi onto the shaft of Mara, trying to use that as an anchorage point.

Mara squealed and retaliated. Flames travelled from the pierced green skin, along the shaft of her blade and onto the pommel gripped by Comedienne's hand. Comedienne gritted her teeth.

"Ffff. . ." she tried to rein in her scream of pain as her hand burned.

Shadow Kamoshida laughed at Comedienne's pain. Her grip weakened on the tachi, each finger unfurling in protest. She lurched to Shadow Kamoshida who opened his mouth wide to take in Comedienne's hand.

Her arm went in freakishly deep into Shadow Kamoshida's mouth, past her elbow. Shadow Kamoshida clamped shut, bringing those sharp teeth down on Shiori's arm. Fangs pierced through skin.

"…fff - FUUUCK!" Comedienne screamed.

Shadow Kamoshida's fourth arm stabbed the dagger into Comedienne's side. She gasped, blood spilling out her mouth. Shadow Kamoshida continued to laugh. The demonic king's jaw unclenched, but Comedienne still could not pull back as Shadow Kamoshida's tongue was now coiling around her arm and around her neck. Comedienne felt the wet disgusting thing slather up a feel on her back.

Skull screwed his forehead, trying to focus hard on channelling Captain Kidd's electric magic. The electrocution amplified, causing a shot of lightning to ejaculate from Mara's head.

Despite the absurd circus in front of him, that irritably throaty laugh was still emanating from Shadow Kamoshida. His first hand which held a glass of poisoned wine, lowered to Comedienne's gasping mouth; struggling for air. Comedienne clamped her mouth. Shadow Kamoshida splashed it on her then smashed the glass into her forehead

Eyes burning and blood streaming, Comedienne blinked rapidly, trying to see into her red-tinted vision. She saw Mona (finally!) swoop in from above and knocked the crown off Shadow Kamoshida's head.

"Huh?" said Shadow Kamoshida.

"F-fi-finally. Yosh. . . _Yoshitsune_ ," whispered Comedienne.

The ghostly samurai appeared, his katana drawn to the ceiling. Comedienne raised her bloody eyes to her Persona's. Understanding passed in-between them. Just like when Eligor died, she told him. But use all my power this time.

"Treasure secured!" said Mona.

Above the castle, supernatural clouds formed and thundered.

"Bitch. I'm going to kill you," said Shadow Kamoshida.

Comedienne looked down at where Shadow Kamoshida had buried the dagger, two inches into her slim waist. A thought crossed her mind. Despite the many places she was bleeding in - as well as her arm still being stuck in Shadow Kamoshida's mouth, Comedienne snickered.

The thunderhead clouds were charged.

"Hey. . .is this the deepest you've ever been in a girl?" Comedienne asked him.

Comedienne did not stay conscious long enough to see Shadow Kamoshida's reaction. Just as the lightning discharged from the clouds, nearly all the remaining stamina she had left sapped out with the spell.

* * *

Gentle violin music played in the castle atrium. A Jack-O-Knight (dressed in a maid uniform) was humming to himself as he feather-dusted a statue of the O' Mighty and Exalted King Kamoshida. He loved this chore. Sometimes, when no one was watching, he would lick the statue's feet.

"Hmm?"

The Jack-O-Knight paused. This sounded different from the rest of the ruckus happening around.

 _What is that noise coming from overhead_ -

Comedienne's lightning tore through the ceiling and reduced the Jack-O-Maid to ash. It continued down, shredding through each floor in startlement and chaos.

* * *

The lightning touched the tip of Yoshitsune's katana. The blade swung down onto the chariot. Skull barely heard Shadow Kamoshida whimper from behind before the room went white. Skull could not see in the intense brightness, but he felt Mara go limp underneath him. Skull slipped off the thing, exhausted.

Wrestling with a literal giant dick just so he would not get expelled from Shujin.

 _Fuck my life_ , thought Skull.

He waited for his vision to restore to normal contrast. Skull blinked. He was lying on a pile of coins, looking up at a savage hole on the ceiling. . .that seemed to go all the way to the top of the castle. Wow. Did Comedienne do something? He wondered.

Skull raised himself into a sitting position. He saw Mona crouching near Comedienne, working some healing magic. The girl was mildly covered in blood and passed out. On Mona's head, sat the Treasure. The crown.

A further bit away, Mara laid dead, burnt to a crisp sausage.

Skull lumbered to his teammates.

"Is she going to all right?" he asked, concerned.

Comedienne's eyelids fluttered. She opened them by a slight, squinting at the other two with mostly one eye.

"She used up all her energy in that crazy spell. But she'll live," said Mona.

"Where's. . .Kamoshida?" asked Comedienne.

"After you injured him badly, he changed back to his normal form and ran away. The other Shadows scattered too. But that's OK. We got the Treasure. We've won, Comedienne. Joker was right to trust you as the leader of this unit," said Mona.

Comedienne forced herself up, a cold sweat breaking.

"Take it easy, yo. What are you in a hurry for?" Skull asked alarmed.

Comedienne thought about the shitty abuse Shadow Kamoshida put her through just earlier. She could still feel the blood and wine sticking on her face. Her eyebrows slanted in anger.

"I'm. . .going to kill him," she growled.

Comedienne reached into a pouch and pulled out a capsule. It was from Takemi Medical Clinic. Comedienne swallowed the bitter thing. Immediately her head felt less light. Comedienne forced herself into a stand. She was still weak, too feeble to even run, but that was fine. Shadow Kamoshida was injured and not far.

"You're being reckless," said Mona.

Comedienne began limping out the Treasure Room. Mona had not fully healed her burned hand; she was unable to properly grip her tachi. That was fine. Comedienne needed only one hand to kill that shithead.

"You two stay here. It's important the Treasure remains secured with the Phantom Thieves. Wait for Joker and Panther," said Comedienne on her way out.

"But-"

"Stay. I'm still the leader, remember?"

That quieted them. Around them, the Palace shook. It was destabilising now that the Treasure was stolen.

When Comedienne was out the Treasure Room, she saw a secret panel door was slid open. A trail of dark blood led into it. Comedienne grimly limped on.

X

"And you guys just let her go?" Panther asked, incredulous.

Joker sighed. This was so typical of Comedienne.

Skull and Mona looked glum about letting Comedienne go.

"She played the leader card on us," said Mona, his ears drooped down.

"It's fine," said Joker, waving a hand.

"But what if Shadow Kamoshida kills her?" asked Panther.

Joker was more concerned about Comedienne killing the king.

"You said she went through that passage?" asked Joker.

"Yeah."

"Then let's find them," said Joker.

* * *

When Comedienne found him, Shadow Kamoshida was barely walking like herself. The king - upon realising a wrathful Phantom Thief was onto him, tried to limp faster. Comedienne quickly caught up and knocked Shadow Kamoshida by the teeth, to the floor. Then she summoned her tachi in her good hand and held it at Shadow Kamoshida's neck.

The wall to their side slowly crumbled. Brick and mortar turned to crumbling dust, unfolding the outside world like a page tearing to reveal a picture. The pink sky. The pier. The scatter of cottage houses. Kamoshida's army was in chaos; a dark grey thrashing mob, confused and looking for their king. In the middle of the mob was the dark yellow silhouette of the fallen dragon. There were also pretty high up at this vantage point.

"You've something important away from me. My choice to be the person I chose to be," sobbed Shadow Kamoshida.

". . .is this supposed to make me feel sorry for you?" she asked coldly.

"You don't understand. All those people. . .they're like hyenas. Eating at me with their expectations to fulfil their wishes. Is it such a terrible thing that I want a little something here and there, as a reward? Surely you'd know better, Shiori. People placed expectations on you at Shujin," said Shadow Kamoshida.

Comedienne's rage softened.

". . ."

"Don't you tell me you know don't know what it's like. I can see it on your face," said Shadow Kamoshida.

Her anger mellowed. Now she was irritated.

"I may have not liked the hyenas of Shujin, too. But I never multiplied my grievance to become others'. You're going to prison, Kamoshida," said Comedienne.

Shadow Kamoshida raised his tear-stricken face to Comedienne. Around them, the Palace continued to rumble, slowly descending into structural failure. Debris broke off in stridulation. The residents and Shadows which took refuge and home at Kamoshida's Palace, cried out in the far distances.

"Are you so cold hearted that you have no sense of morality or mercy? You call this justice, but you're mistaken in thinking power and prosecution can be innocent. They'll take me to prison. Everyone will know who I am. What I did. For the first few weeks, it will be abuse. I'll be gang raped almost every day in the showers. Then slowly, thoughts of ending my life will fill my head. I'll start looking at the sheets of my bed, wondering if I can fashion it into a rope. Fashion a rope into a noose.

Then maybe someday, when you and your friends are congratulating yourselves for stealing another's heart, enjoying a hearty meal and laughing, I'll have been found dead in my cell, hanging. Do you honestly think you could handle being a murderer by proxy?" said Shadow Kamoshida, his voice pitiful with mock's bitter tinge.

Comedienne looked down at Shadow Kamoshida, contemplating the ruined king. She took off the hood from her head. Her hair swept up by a slight, receiving the draft of wind.

". . ."

Comedienne looked out thoughtfully into the distance. She could see the beach she chased Joker on, the second time they visited the Palace.

"You're begging the wrong person for mercy," Comedienne finally said.

Shadow Kamoshida looked appalled.

"Did you hear even one of the reasons, I said? About terrible things happening to me in prison?" he demanded.

Shiori nodded, lowering her eyes.

"Once upon a time, a terrible thing happened to two schoolgirls. One of them suffered more than the other. But both. . .lost their minds in their own way. It wasn't supposed to be that way. They both had ideals of doing well in school, having fun and going to parties. They never hurt anyone. Never took risks. But tragedy still struck," Comedienne lowered her tachi, her expression becoming pained.

"I spent many months wondering; why do terrible things happen to us? Why do we suffer like this? I tried to seek reason from therapy, from religion, from my parents. . .but no matter where I looked, it could not explain this volatile and insane world. That was when I realised. . .humans are arrogant to believe that they can force the world to make sense. You see, I figured out the absurdity of our society way back. . ." Comedienne licked her lips.

". . .words. . .upon words. Words that build upon our thought. Thoughts that build upon laws and reason. That build upon _morality_. Each of them building upon each other, forming lattices and lattices. . .forming larger lattices, until we end up with the human mind of today's society."

Shadow Kamoshida did not understand what she meant. Those yellow eyes were confused. Comedienne lightly pressed the tip of her tachi on Shadow Kamoshida's lips. A sliver of blood drew. Her voice became dusky:

"Once upon a time. . .a racist asshole said that the greatest mercy ever bestowed on this world. . .was the human mind's inability to correlate all of its contents. . ."

Shadow Kamoshida's eyes widened at Comedienne.

Comedienne relieved her weapon, sheathing it.

"The Phantom Thieves' justice does not need to make sense to me. Reasons are for amateurs. And you know what? I want to see how far they'll go against the world. Our leader, Joker. . ." Shiori sighed, clamping her cheeks and slowly rotating on a heel. A soft smile played on Comedienne's lips.

"Joker is secretly out for revenge. I fucking love that. Ever since Ren entered my life, all these crazy things have happened. _Yoshitsune_."

The tall persona materialised behind Comedienne. She thumb-pointed to her Persona.

"Check this guy out. A ghost samurai. Pretty neat, huh? After he became my Persona-" Comedienne rapidly flicked her fingers a few times, "-what feels like a few blinks later, I've stolen the heart of Suguru Kamoshida. I'm not sure how or why. . .but I think this all happened because of Ren. Have you heard of the Tarot deck? There's a card called. . .The Fool. The arcana to represent infinite potential. That's what Ren reminds me of.

His very existence has torn through this fantastical bullshit that humans feed themselves about fitting in with rules, the system, how reality should work. . .and now here we are, robbing a shitty adult of his free will by dressing up Halloween and fighting a giant green penis on a chariot. . .I loved how nonsensical that sounded. Don't you? That is why. . .no matter what gets in his way, I intend to help Ren achieve his vengeance. Even if things get a little dark and twisted. So bring out your dragons, your Palaces, your pleads for empathy and mercy. Call Ren the Anti-Christ, I don't care. I'll protect him every – step – of – the – way," said Comedienne.

The sounds of running reached Shadow Kamoshida and Comedienne. The others were almost here.

Shadow Kamoshida was struck mute, his mouth hanging.

Comedienne pulled up her hood and stepped away from Shadow Kamoshida, who was still on his knees. He was not going anywhere.

"When you're in your cold dark prison cell, crying and pleading for a shred of compassion and forgiveness from the world. . .you won't remember any of this. But maybe, somewhere deep in your subconscious psyche. . .maybe my voice will stir, echoing how reason does not exist. With that - any shred of hope you desperately tried to cling onto will vaporise and you will not understand why. _That_ \- will be the final thing that will push you to suicide in prison," said Comedienne.

"Comedienne! You OK?!" yelled Skull.

The others had emerged in sight. Joker had the Treasure with him. The jewel-encrusted crown. Comedienne held her thumb up to Skull. All good. Relief flooded the faces of her comrades when they saw she was not further injured.

Panther stepped forward from the gang and struck Shadow Kamoshida, a punch to the nose. Shadow Kamoshida fell back, blood spurting. His face landed by the ledge - crevice to a fall going many stories down. Seeing that Shadow Kamoshida at their mercy, reminded Panther the world of pain and hurt this man had caused her.

Comedienne stepped further away, behind the rest of the others, as they surrounded Shadow Kamoshida.

Panther grabbed Shadow Kamoshida by the hair and showed him the drop from where she could throw him off. Shadow Kamoshida's breath seized up. He was terrified.

"Scared? You're looking at the same view Shiho did," said Panther.

The Palace continued to rumble. Mona looked to Joker, his face in alarm which said, 'We need to leave now before it is too late.'

Joker tucked the crown, looking about nervously himself. The Palace was going down. Yet Panther needed this moment. Joker held up a hand to Mona. 'Wait,' Joker mouthed.

 _Let's give her a minute_ , thought Joker.

Panther continued, "I'm sure Shiho was scared too. . .except she had no choice but to jump. . .what will you do? Will you jump? Or would you rather die here?"

The king's lips trembled, looking down at the drop. This was the end for him in the metaverse. He lost the game. What should he say?

"I am sorry. My apology is not worth a token to the atrocities that I wrought. . .but it's all I can give. Go ahead. Finish me off, it will kill my real self too. . ." said Shadow Kamoshida.

The others watched Panther, their breath abated. Panther raised a fist. It caught aflame, casting an orange glow on her face.

Shadow Kamoshida closed his eyes.

There was a pause. . .then the flames extinguished. Panther dropped her hand.

"No. I'm not going to kill you here. That would be too easy on you. The real you must be exposed for the monster he is. He'll have to live with that for the rest of his life in jail. That's truer punishment than any, for someone like you," said Panther.

". . ."

Panther released Shadow Kamoshida.

"Let's go," Panther said.

Skull looked down at the man who caused him so much pain since last year. How Kamoshida falsely framed their old coach for a crime he did not commit, how he broke Ryuji's team, his leg. All that malicious charisma which fed lies to the school and turned Ryuji into an outcast with no future. The laughs and whispers the volleyball team would say behind Ryuji's back, probably from Kamoshida telling his team how much of a loser Ryuji was. The occasional bullying. . .

Now here they were. Shadow Kamoshida kneeling and trembling, not even brave enough to look at Skull in the eye.

"Skull?" Morgana called to him.

Skull shook his head. It was not worth it. Let fate take care of the rest, Skull decided. Skull went to join the others.

* * *

 _In an alley in front of Shujin Academy._

"Look at the nav!" said Ryuji.

Ren checked the Metaverse Navigator app on his phone. The slot for Kamoshida's Palace was no longer there. Underneath read a message, 'The destination has been deleted'.

". . .it's gone. We can't go there anymore," said Ann.

"What about the Treasure?" asked Morgana.

Ren pocketed his phone and slipped out an Olympic gold medal from his school jacket.

"What the. . ." said Ryuji.

"A medal? Wait, where'd that crown go?" asked Ann.

"It must have changed form when we returned to the real world. That is the Treasure," said Shiori.

"To him, this medal is worth as much as that crown we saw in the Palace," said Morgana.

"An Olympic medal. . .that perv kept clinging to his glory days and couldn't let it go," said Ryuji.

"This should mean that Kamoshida's heart will have changed. . .right?" said Ann.

". . .probably," said Morgana, noncommittal.

Ryuji groaned.

"C'mon dude. Our expulsions on the line here!" said Ryuji.

"This is the first time I've successfully pulled off a successful Treasure heist," Morgana said defensively.

There might be strange things happening, but none of them were stranger than Morgana, thought Ren.

Morgana continued, "However, I am very sure this has affected Kamoshida's personality to a great degree. We saw the entire Palace go down."

Ryuji scratched his head and sighed.

"This is making me feel antsy. Ain't there a way to check now?" asked Ryuji.

"We've done all that we could. Whether this has worked, I think we'll know soon enough. The board meeting is like ten or eleven days away," said Ren.

"Right. . ." said Ann.

Everyone went home with vows to rest their weariness. That evening, Ren was lying on his bed, scrolling through his messages. His thumb hovered over the conversation history with Ann. Ren clicked it, opening the chat log. It showed the exchange Ren received - just as he entered Leblanc earlier on.

_Ann: Thanks. I finally got to avenge Shiho because of you guys… _

_Ann: I'm pretty sure there was no way I'd have been able to do anything on my own. _

_Ann: So seriously, thank you. I owe you so much. _

_Ren: You helped too. _

_Ann: You think? I'm glad to hear that… _

_Ann: Anyway, that cognitive world was pretty crazy, huh? _

_Ann: What a mysterious place. I can't believe we actually stole someone's heart… _

_Ann: Speaking of mysterious, there's also the matter of Morgana's origin. _

_Ann: We found that origami book. But where next? How does he know stuff about the metaverse? _

_Ren: He is an enigma. _

_Ann: I think fate made you meet him _

_Ren: You reckon? _

_Ann: Everything happens for a reason. I believe in that _

_Ann: It may be, that he needs your help to find his memories _

_Ren: I hope I can. _

_Ren: I sometimes see it bothers him; to not know who you are _

_Ren: I can't imagine what that's like _

_Ren: In a weird way, it must be like starting off without a heart _

_Ren: I try to cheer him up whenever I can _

_Ren: Shiori too tries to help. By making him his favourite food. Otoro _

_Ann: Aww that's cute _

_Ann: I think I feel a little better after talking to you. Thanks. _

_Ann: We still haven't seen any results, but it feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders_

_Ann: I hope you don't mind talking to me too much (｡･･｡) _

_Ren: Can I ask something personal? _

_Ann: Hmm? _

_Ren: Do you live with anyone? _

_Ann: No. I mean, there's that 'guardian' that my parents hired. But otherwise, I have the apartment to myself usually, being the only child _

_Ann: Mum and dad visited me twice this year, so that's nice _

_Ann: Well…see you tomorrow. _

 _She lives alone. She was dealing with the death of her best friend while returning to an empty home, with no one to talk to about it_ , thought Ren.

During which - he acted like a jerk to her, Ren realised. He sat up on his bed, looking at the chat log. Even though Ann seems like a straightforward person, always upfront about her emotions, Ren was confused about this girl.

Ann was going to visit New York this weekend. . .

Ren typed a message to Ann:

_Ren: Ann? _

While waiting for her reply, Ren cleaned up the remainder of the messy pile of books by the shelf in his attic. The IM buzz finally came.

_Ann: What's up? _

_Ren: You're going to NY this weekend… _

_Ann: …yeah? _

_Ren: Don't do it. Don't go after Khajit's heart. _

_Ann: … _

_Ann: I know you think something might happen to me _

_Ann: But it's not consequential _

Ren's thumbs tapped against the touchscreen a bit too hard.

_Ren: That's not true _

_Ren: You're consequential for me _

_Ren: I mean! _

_Ren: …it would bother me if something happened to you _

_Ren: :/ _

Oh crap, thought Ren. That could have come out better. There was a long IM pause. Ann replied:

_Ann: OK :) _

_Ann: I won't go after his heart. Just spend time with the folks _

_Ann: You have my word. _

Ren exhaled a breath he did not realise he had been holding. What a relief. She was going to be safe in New York.

_Ren: …see you at school _

* * *

The next day, Ren, Shiori and Ryuji were on the second-floor corridor, chatting during recess.

"Have you seen Kamoshida yet?" Ryuji asked in a low voice.

Shiori shook her head.

"It's weird he hasn't shown yet. Usually he likes to swagger around during these times," said Ren.

"I'm just wonderin', if his heart has changed, will he actually show it on the outside?" Ryuji asked.

"Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you two."

Was that Kawakami? Thought Shiori, turning around. It was.

"Just letting you know, P.E class has been cancelled since Mr. Kamoshida isn't at school today. You will all be having study hall instead," said Ms. Kawakami.

"Cancelled? Why?" asked Ryuji.

Ms. Kawakami swayed left-right by a slight, looking a bit disturbed.

"Well. . .you did not hear this from me, but apparently Kamoshida is placing himself under suspension, through the school board," whispered Ms. Kawakami.

Ren stiffened. Next to him, Shiori gasped; she grabbed Ren's arm, shaking it in a tight grip.

". . .s-suspension?" said Ryuji, unable to hide his disbelief.

"He was rambling on the phone, talking about 'paying for my crimes' and such. I think he's planning on handing in a resignation too. The principal has gone over to Kamoshida's place to talk some sense into him. Guess you can count yourself lucky. Your expulsion has been put on hold. . .or might even be forgotten about," said Ms. Kawakami.

When 2-D's homeroom teacher was gone, Shiori whispered, "No way."

"Whatever it sounds like, it doesn't seem stealing his heart has caused a mental shutdown," said Ryuji.

* * *

 _After school. In Classroom 2-D_.

_Ryuji: Man all this Palace business has stressed me out_

_Ryuji: We should go on a trip or something. Whaddya think? _

_Ann: Sorry, I'm going to have to pass. _

_Ryuji: What, you busy? _

_Ann: Yeah. I have to prepare for packing. My flight to NY is tonight actually. _

_Ann: My parents have been pretty concerned about me, ever since they heard about Shiho. They've been anxious to see me _

Ren looked at the phone screen disappointed. She was leaving today? Ren felt this weird depressing feeling in his chest. Ann did not even stick around to say goodbye in person.

When Shiori read the group chat, she looked up to check Ren. The guy looked glum. Shiori chuckled.

"You look crestfallen," Shiori teased.

Ren gave a slothful shrug.

"It's only going to be a few days, relaaax," said Shiori.

Ren typed:

_Ren: Have a safe trip. _

_Shiori: Take care, Ann. _

_Ann: I will. Thanks. _

_Ann: I'm totally down to go somewhere, once I get back and things calm down. _

* * *

 **Whew. We're almost at the end of the first arc. The next chapter should wrap things up nicely for the Kamoshida arc. After that is Madarame's...which means the Phantom Thieves will be getting a new addition to the team. Now regarding Joker/Arsene's curse magic...this is going to be different to the game (where the video game's PS3 engine just treated it as an attack spell and done). In CVV, Ren will start to think of creative ways of what Arsene's curse magic could do and might even experiment. It will be something that is going to play a role in the storyline for Joker and is also part of his 'wild card' repertoire. This will also cover some explanation of how Ren was able to absorb that Jack-O-Knight when he first awakened Arsene.  
**

 **Anyway, thank you for all the likes, follows and reviews (the reviews mean the most to me, cheers - I hope to hear more of your thoughts as the story progresses). They motivate me as I write. If you haven't reviewed yet (and judging by FFnet's analytics graph, there's hundreds of you silent folks X_X) please feel free to do so.  
**


	17. Introspection

.

"Now that the school knows Ryuji and that transfer kid are getting expelled, Niijima-san is not making it a quiet profile with the student council, that you staked your goodwill on Ren Amamiya. Stuff like this reflects on your character. After the way you pissed her off, Shiori. . .I can't say it's surprising she's acting like that," said her fellow schoolmate, Nakata.

Shiori swallowed some angry words, her jaw tensing. She tried to focus her energy on packing stationary into her pencil case. Outside the classroom, Ren was chatting with Ryuji, while he waited for her.

"Why?" asked Nakata.

Shiori zipped her bag and looked up at Nakata.

"Why what?"

"Why did you vouch for him? Or why even continue to hang out with him, now that he's getting kicked out? None of us get it, because we know you're a good person, Shiori. You were even a good leader once, when you and Makoto shared deputy duties last year. Someone like that, challenging a good teacher like Kamoshida. . ." Nakata trailed off.

Shiori puffed her cheeks a little. How could she explain herself here? Nakata was as dense as most, but she found the gawky council member to be likeable person and she did not want to come off indifferent about this.

"You seem frustrated," said Nakata.

"Look - if Niijima wants to shit talk me, I won't stop her from wasting energy on that. As for why I hang out with Ren despite the expulsion-" Shiori paused. Ryuji laugh at some secret joke he shared with Ren. The boys high-fived in goodbye before Ryuji left. Ren turned to her direction, waiting.

"-You've noticed Kamoshida has been absent from school, right?" asked Shiori.

"Yeah. . .it's weird now that I think about it. He stopped showing up to school not long after those ridiculous calling cards were put up. . .wait, you're not saying those rumours are true?" Nakata's eyes widened.

"I hang with Ren because we choose the company we think we deserve-" Shiori raised a hand to her chest. "-and I know I deserve good friends. I think you're a nice guy, Nakata. You work harder than some of the others on the council because you care. But sometimes good intentions cannot see evil," said Shiori.

Nakata's expression was troubled.

"If you're saying what I think you're saying, taking that side is-"

Shiori shook her head, cutting off Nakata.

"No. No. This isn't about sides. Forget about the sides. Forget about the 'delinquents', the council, the rejects, the popular. . .take a look around. Think about what's happening here and think with your own head. Not what others tell you," said Shiori.

". . ."

"You'll know where to find me when you have an answer. Anyway, thanks for reaching out to me, Nakata-san."

Shiori joined Ren.

Passing by other students through the hall, Ren noticed the students were still talking about the calling card. Some dismissed it as stupid. Others were getting a good laugh over it.

But not everyone was as sceptical. Ren could feel the small vibes of unease here and there. Members of the volleyball team had been tense ever since the calling cards went out. Some students were starting to wonder about the what-ifs with Kamoshida. The fractures were showing.

Occasionally, they overheard conversations which gave windows into the lives of other students. Like:

"Lately, I get this weird feeling, like someone's staring at me. Man, I hope it's not ghosts."

"Maybe you're just really tired? Don't go fainting on me all of a sudden, all right?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean those psychotic breakdowns? It's nothing that crazy. Maybe I'm just tired."

"Let's hit Big Bang. An Earth Burger should perk you up. . ."

On the way, they passed a creepy female student, hiding by a corridor corner. Her eyes darted maniacally between her phone and the two boys talking.

"Oh, Ikesugi-kun, you must be so tired. Don't worry, I'll be watching over you. . ." she giggled, "-I'll post online, and everyone will know what me and Ikesugi-kun share. . ." Another giggle, "I'll tell them, 'He seemed a bit tired…so I massaged his shoulders for him. ✰"

Ren and Shiori picked up the pace before they heard another skin crawling giggle from her.

"World is still just as stupid, before and after we stole Kamoshida's heart," Shiori commented.

Ren silently agreed.

Louder sounds of traffic and pedestrian noise greeted them when they stepped outside Shujin's main entrance. Shiori stretched out to the sky and sighed contently. At Ren's quizzical look, Shiori said, "Didn't you notice it too? This school day felt lighter without Kamoshida around."

She was right. Today, there were no dramas. No one jumping off the rooftop. No tears. No broken legs. No threats. It almost felt like a normal school day, without having to look over his shoulder every time, worried that the volleyball coach might corner Ren and do something to him.

"True. Even if we don't know what's happened to his heart, it feels like a small victory already," said Ren.

By one of the garden plots, Ren noticed a senior student was tending to the flowers. Her face was turned away from Ren, so he could only make out her dark fawn hair which lightly curled around her profile, falling chin-length. She wore a light purple knitted sleeveless turtleneck sweater, over the usual Shujin attire – the biggest detraction from the school's dress code, Ren had seen from a girl.

"Who's that?" Ren quietly asked Shiori.

"Hmm? Oh her. That's Haru Okumura," said Shiori.

Okumura. Why did that surname sound familiar to Ren? He wondered.

"She's OK. Doesn't seem to talk much to others for some reason. Not sure why," added Shiori.

"Amamiya?"

Ren and Shiori turned around. It was Mishima. The blue-haired boy was looking down at his feet, fiddling with his hands.

"Something the matter?" asked Ren.

Mishima swallowed. Then to Ren's surprise, Mishima stooped a deep bow and held it there.

"I just came here to say. . .I'm sorry! For what I did. Leaking your school record. It's just Kamoshida gave me no choice. . .he threatened to kick me off the volleyball team which would have made me lose my bench position on the team," said Mishima.

". . ."

"Volleyball is all I have that makes me feel like I'm worth something. . .and I panicked. It wasn't my fault y'know? But I heard you were going to be expelled. . .so I am sorry," said Mishima.

" _It's okay Mishima. I forgive you for efficiently disclosing my personal information to the rest of the school which has in turn, made my school life hell. I'm sure your bench position was very important. You must be a good player too, despite playing like shit on the day of the rally, you selfish snivelling weak-spined bastard."_

Was what Ren wanted to say.

Shiori raised a dubious eyebrow at Mishima. Ren closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Be careful. No need to create more drama than there was already. Ren definitely did not need another enemy right now. When Ren opened his eyes, he simply said, "I forgive you. There's no need to bow."

Mishima raised himself, his face pale.

"R-really? It's all good?" asked Mishima; dude was legit sweating.

"Let's put this behind us. How about that?" said Ren.

"Of course. I will. I'm sorry about your impending expulsion. I never wanted things to go this far with Kamoshida. What he did to Shiho. . .was not special coaching," said Mishima.

 _Yet you did not try to help once, even though you were in the thick of it_ , thought Shiori.

Shiori's feet shuffled. Ren took cue that she was feeling uncomfortable.

"I'll see you later, Mishima," said Ren, stepping away.

"Y-yes. Bye. Goodbye Shiori," said Mishima.

Shiori nodded back.

When they were finally out of earshot, Shiori said, "I'm not sure if I like that guy," said Shiori.

Ren shrugged non-committal. There were more awkward types out there.

* * *

On entering Leblanc Café, Ren saw there was one customer sitting on a stool, just finishing her coffee. A sharp-suited woman with silvery-grey hair and brown eyes. Was this a new regular? Ren wondered.

She got up, grabbing her handbag.

"Thank you for the coffee. It was delicious," she said.

"No problem. Was there a specific time you want that cake delivered?" asked Sojiro.

"Hmm. . .8 PM will be fine. Hopefully I'll be able to make it. . ." said the woman, sounding self-conscious.

"Very well. 8 PM it is," said Sojiro.

Ren stepped aside for the customer. She passed without looking at him. The bell tinkled at the woman's exit.

"Hey, you got a minute? I want to talk to you before you head up," said Sojiro.

Ren nervously sat himself on a booth seat. Did he do something wrong?

Sojiro sat himself on the stool opposite, looking a bit grave.

"I see you've been faithfully logging in your activities into that journal which I gave you. It's good you're doing that. Makes it easier when I report twice a month to your probation officer," said Sojiro.

Ren nodded.

"Now, I don't expect you to write that sort of thing into written record, but you haven't been getting yourself into any trouble, have you?" asked Sojiro.

Ren thought about the time they ended for the first time in Kamoshida's castle, fighting off enemies - bloody, in a coliseum. Then going back again and getting into more mortal danger before barely making it out. Oh and there was that thing where he had to watch Shiho die and later they had to save Ann and then onwards a highly respected teacher from Shujin (who happened to be a narcissistic rapist and abuser) intended to get Ren expelled from school so they went back in the metaverse and fought a dragon, stole his heart and now have to wait to see if Kamoshida will really get Ren expelled on the day of the school board meeting. Good times.

"Trouble. . .nah. Unless you count that time with that girl who died, Shiho Suzui," said Ren.

Ren felt his insides knot a little when Sojiro studied him.

"OK. And you're not associating with any trouble-makers, right?" asked Sojiro.

"No, sir."

"I told you before, don't call me 'sir'. I'm not that old."

". . ."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asked Sojiro.

Ren's brain lagged for a second.

"Huh?" said Ren.

"A girlfriend. A female acquaintance with whom you might have a romantic relationship with. They sometimes come with excessive nagging," said Sojiro, twirling his goatee.

"No, I don't. Would it be against the rules for me. . .?" Ren asked. The thought had not occurred to him before.

Sojiro snorted.

"No. Of course not. I might be strict on you, but I'm no cock-block. Jeez kid, every man needs a fine piece of booty in his life. It's good for his heart," said Sojiro.

Ren diplomatically nodded.

Sojiro's phone rang.

"Hello? Yeah. . .no, I was just on my way back. . .sure. The usual, right? . . .OK, see you then," Sojiro clicked his phone.

"I'm heading home then. Don't forget to turn the sign, kid."

"Will do, Boss."

* * *

Friday came. The school day turned out to be boring for Ren. Maybe it was the absence of Ann toying with Ren, maybe he was not being chased down by enemies in some Palace, maybe school was always boring, Ren was not sure.

After classes were over, Ren received a text from Ryuji.

_Ryuji: I kinda wanna talk today…Well, more like I gotta unload all this crap off my chest. _

_Ryuji: Why don't we go grab some ramen? Y'know, shake things up. _

_Ryuji: I'll take you over to a special shop I know. _

"You coming?" Shiori called from the classroom door.

Ren shook his head.

"Go home without me. I think Ryuji needs someone to talk to today," said Ren.

"Is he okay?" she asked concerned.

"Yeah. . .I think so. But it must be one of those days for him, I guess."

Shiori nodded, sympathetic.

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ren found Ryuji at Aoyama-itchōme's train station.

"Where are we going?"

"Ogikubo. They have the best ramen joint in all of Tokyo!" said Ryuji.

Ogikubo turned out to be a suburban residential area, which felt like a nice break for Ren, being away from the loud city and the commerciality of Yongen-Jaya. Along the way, they passed primary school students who walked home from school. The quiet area reminded Ren of his earlier years in school. Things were quite different then.

"Here we are. These guys use fish bones to cook the ramen, instead of beef bones," said Ryuji.

They arrived by an inconspicuous looking ramen shop, with mouth-watering aromas wafting outside.

Within twenty minutes, Ren's forehead was sweating from the heat steaming from his ramen bowl as he gulped down the spicy stuff. He closed his eyes, slowly savouring the mind-melting inebriate treatment his taste buds were getting.

"It's better than the last place, huh?" said Ryuji.

Ren nodded.

"So good."

"We used to come here every time after track practice. . .until. . ." Ryuji trailed off, realising his mouth brought on a heavy subject before his mind could stop him.

"Until Kamoshida," said Ren.

". . .yeah."

Two minutes of silence and a few bites followed. Ryuji broke the silence.

"I wish he wasn't like that," said Ryuji.

"Kamoshida?"

"Yeah."

". . .I myself was surprised by how venomous he turned out to be. When I first showed up to Shujin, that is. You look at him on a surface glance, he seems like another friendly P.E teacher that's laid back. But it is those small things he does, that hides who he really is," said Ren, frowning.

"The way he kisses up to the principal. Acts like a humble and considerate guy in front of the other teachers and students. Like that day with Mishima, when he spiked on his face. He misdirects them so well," said Ryuji.

". . ."

"I remember when Kamoshida first showed up. There was kind of a buzz around him. Olympic gold-medallist and all that. Back then, we the track team were kinda curious about him too. I think some of us even admired him. I know I did. He seemed so vigorous and positive, which was the attitude our track coach inspired us to practise," said Ryuji.

"What happened to him? Your track coach? Nobody at school talks about that erstwhile position for some reason. But clearly someone was coaching you guys before Kamoshida showed," said Ren.

Ryuji folded his arms and heavily exhaled, his jaw working. Dude looked like he was digesting a lot of anger. And sadness.

"That's not surprising. Our old coach left the schools in bad graces. Kamoshida. . .he somehow framed the Toyama-sensei for stealing money from the school. I don't fully understand how it happened, but it was some drama with the budget allocation for the school's sports teams. Looking back, I think Kamoshida was just jealous of the guy, and how Toyama-sensei was able to make us even more successful than his new volleyball team," said Ryuji.

"Toyama-sensei. I'm guessing he was too good of a person to see through Kamoshida's ill intentions?" asked Ren.

"You got that right. He was nice guy. Kinda. . .fatherly to me, ya' know? My real dad, all he ever did was drink and beat up my mum when I was younger. One day, I tried to protect mum from him-" Ryuji bitterly laughed, blinking away tears. For Ryuji's sake, Ren pretended he did not see that. "-it was very stupid, some would say. I was only just five. Hardly big enough to stand up to a grown man. He threw me against a wall and I remember passing out. When I came about, they told me the police had arrested him for domestic abuse, after the neighbours found out.

Mum never pressed charges. The police released him but he. . .never walked back into the house. My last memory of my father was his," Ryuji placed a hand on his throat, "-the smell of beer. . .and just pure rage. So when Toyama-san was coach, giving advice and asking how we were, our personal lives. . .even joking about us dating girls and all that, I really, appreciated him for it."

". . ."

"Then Kamoshida shows up. Fucks everything. Fucks Toyama-sensei who is forced to resign. Then makes me fuck up. If I hadn't thrown that punch that afternoon, at least the track team would have still existed. Looking back, it was so obvious he went for me, because he knew I had a temper and started on my parents. Shit. To this day, I never found out who told him about my past," spat Ryuji.

 _Only those close to Ryuji, would have known something like that. One of his teammates?_ Ren wondered. He did not say it aloud.

"Do you truly regret it? Hitting him? Think about it, Ryuji. The circumstances. What you understood of the situation," said Ren.

Ryuji was caught off-guard.

"I should be? My teammates were so angry at me," said Ryuji.

"But how do you feel about what you did? Yourself as the judge," said Ren.

Ren took a bite while Ryuji mulled.

"I guess. . .I don't?" Ryuji said slowly.

"You sound unsure."

Ryuji straightened on his stool.

"I do not regret it. I did, what any normal guy would have done. It would be weird if I were to blame myself for it and not Kamoshida! I mean, he's the guy who made the track team disband and had us turn against each other!" exclaimed Ryuji.

"There you go," said Ren, his eyebrows roller-coasting in amusement.

". . .have you thought about what would happen if we end up getting expelled anyway?" asked Ryuji.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"You might not like the answer, haha."

"You can tell me," insisted Ryuji.

Ren scratched his head

"I'd probably just. . .not care. Like fuck-it. We gave this Palace thing everything we had. We even tried to stop Kamoshida through normal means beforehand. But hey, if that's not enough, why continue to give a shit about anything at all?" said Ren.

"But what about us?" asked Ryuji.

That made Ren look up from his ramen bowl.

"Us?"

"Me, Shiori and Ann. If you get expelled, you'd have to go back to your hometown. We'd never see each other again," said Ryuji.

Ryuji's sincerity caught Ren by surprised.

"I. . ."

"I just reckon you're a diamond in the mud, Ren. You always listen and care, unlike half the idiots at school, who ignore me. Even though you're quiet most of the time, you say some of the wisest things that make me think. Heck, you've got a stronger reason to be angry all the time, with what that politician did to you. Yet you're so calm and collected. I just think. . .it would be a loss for Shujin. . .and myself - to lose a friend like that," said Ryuji.

 _I do have that anger, Ryuji. A lot of it. I just choose not to show it_ , thought Ren.

Did the girls also project onto Ren as the pure and great guy, Ryuji thought he was? Ren wondered. Did Ann? That was not who he was, Ren felt.

"Thanks man. I guess I. . ." Ren gave an embarrassed cough, ". . .I would be bummed out about not seeing you three again."

At that, Ryuji smiled. At least Ren managed to cheer him up.

* * *

That same night, Shiori sent a text to Ren. It was a topic he had been dreading, but he knew she would bring it up eventually.

_Shiori: Have you decided about the clinical trials at Takemi Medical? _

Ren sighed. Kamoshida's heart was stolen, why bother? As if reading his mind, another text came.

_Shiori: Don't be a wuss. Just because Kamoshida's heart is stolen, it does not mean we should take our safety for granted. _

_Ren: O' really? -.- _

_Ren: What do I have to fear? _

_Shiori: With your proclivity to attract trouble, you don't honestly think that was the last time we would be in the metaverse? _

_Ren: …fine. _

_Ren: If we die, I hope your death will be more painful than mine _

_Shiori: That's the spirit! _

* * *

 _Next morning._

"Heading out?" asked Sojiro, pausing from the oven in the café's kitchen.

"Yeah. Shiori wants to screen a movie," said Ren.

Probably a good idea not to let Sojiro find out he was getting into experimental drug testing with a shady doctor.

Sojiro nodded. Ren smoothed down the dark jacket he was wearing and picked up his messenger bag. Morgana was in the bag.

"I might not be at the café, after six. Got a delivery to handle," said Sojiro.

"I should be back by then. It's still 11 AM," Ren called back.

The bell tinkled.

Shiori was sitting cross-legged by the steps when Ren showed. She was staring up at the sky, absentminded. A lolly-pop lolled at the corner of her mouth. A plain black cap sat forward on her head.

"Morning Shiori," said Morgana.

Shiori turned her head. Ren noticed she blinked unevenly. As if reluctant to open her eyes.

"Didn't get much sleep?" Ren asked.

"No. Accidentally gamed whole night," mumbled Shiori, getting up like a zombie.

"What game?"

"Doom. . .twenty-sixteen," came a dead sounding reply.

"We can cancel this if you-"

Shiori grabbed Ren by the hair, a crazy look in her eyes. Ren noticed her hair fell out the cap, in somewhat messy tufts.

"No! We are not!" she whispered dramatically.

". . .okay, we won't. Chill out girl," said Ren.

"Are you sure it's OK to be taking trial meds, when you're in this state, Shiori?" asked Morgana.

"I'll be fine," Shiori insisted.

Ren rolled his eyes as they stepped into the clinic.

"Hey Tae. We're here about. . . _that_ ," said Ren.

Looking through the glass, it became evident to Ren that Tae was also not energised today.

"In spring, one 'sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn,' huh. . .?" said Tae.

Tae looked at Ren blankly. Next to him, Shiori was rolling her lolly-pop in her mouth, a strange attempt to hide her own exhaustion. What was with these two today? Ren wondered.

"Oh. It's you two. God. I need a nap. . .or something hot and black inside me," said Tae.

Shiori's lolly-pop stick stopped moving.

"I meant coffee," Tae added.

The lolly-pop stick resumed rotation.

Ren cleared his throat. Tae sighed.

"Please head into the examination room. I'll be with you shortly."

Few minutes later, Ren was holding a glass of some strange looking red stuff to drink. Shiori sat next to him on the examination bed, holding the same liquid.

Forebodingly, Tae locked the door. Ren swallowed. Was that necessary? He wondered.

"Rest assured, my autopsy is guaranteed to find out exactly what part of it killed you two," said Tae.

 _Good to know_ , thought Ren.

Ren hesitated. Shiori sniffed the liquid and frowned.

"What? Aren't you going to take it? The exit's right here if you want to quit," said Tae.

Shiori shrugged. Maybe she might be able to escape cleaning her room today. Shiori raised the glassware and downed it in one swoop. Ren gaped. Even Tae dropped her cocky arms-folded poise, in surprise.

"What does it taste like?" asked Ren.

"Not bad," lied Shiori.

 _Well_. . . _if she's still breathing_ , thought Ren.

Ren drank the stuff too. He almost gagged. It tasted soooo bad. But at least he drank it all.

Tae looked at the teenagers like they were off their rockers.

"Do you feel any different?" Tae asked.

Shiori raised a finger, opening her mouth. Then her eyes rolled white. Shiori collapsed forward onto the floor. Ren took a second to absorb what just happened before he felt like his head exploded. He immediately lost consciousness.

X

 _Hours later_.

The dour taste in his mouth greeted Ren when he regained consciousness. His stomach felt strange. He could hear Tae talking.

Ren cracked open his eyes. The white LED on the ceiling glared back down at him. Ren raised himself up into a sitting position, shaking his head, which was kinda numb. He realised he was on the examination bed. Shiori was sitting at the edge, looking like she had just woken up herself. From her face, Ren derived that the ordeal had shaken her a bit. Good. Let her think about this before she suggests they come back for more.

"What happened?" Ren asked, his voice cracking dry.

Tae noted something on the clipboard on her lap. She was sitting by the computer.

"Both of you passed out so I had to close the clinic and wait out the results. Thankfully, Shiori wasn't too light or big so I was able to get her onto the bed, with you. As for why you blacked out. . .the medicine produced a foul smell when it mixed with your digestive gastric juices, similar to surströmming," said Tae.

Ren did not understand half of that but he accepted her answer.

"Now it's your turn to fulfil the end of the bargain," said Shiori.

Tae nodded.

"I've opened up the menu of things you can buy. . ."

Ren stopped listening when he checked his phone. There was a missed call from Sojiro. He nearly gasped when he saw the time. It was already 6:30 PM. They had been out for over seven hours?! Also, why did Sojiro call him?

"Shiori, could you handle buying the new medicine? There's a phone call I need to make," said Ren.

"Yeah, no problem."

Ren stepped outside the clinic and dialled Sojiro's number. Sojiro picked up on the second ring.

" _Good you got back to me, kid_."

"Hey. Is something wrong?" asked Ren.

" _There sure is. Do you remember that miss you saw yesterday, in the café_?" asked Sojiro.

Ren thought about the brisk woman in the business suit.

"Yeah. . ."

" _Her name is Sae Niijima. She ordered a birthday cake which needs to be delivered to her door, by eight. Tonight_ ," said Sojiro.

"OK. . ."

" _I was going to deliver it myself. I'm in Akihabara right now and I'm caught up in this unexpected traffic jam. Some nutter had a mental shutdown on a bus and started swinging a knife around. The bus driver died and there was a massive pile-up accident. Can you believe it?_ " said Sojiro sounding incredulous.

One of the first things Ren learned about Sojiro, was that he had a not-my-problem attitude to these sorts of things. This was ironic.

"I'm glad you're OK," said Ren.

Ren heard Sojiro clear his throat, gruff.

" _I don't think I'll be able to make it back in time to pick-up the cake in the café, and deliver it to Niijima's residence,_ " said Sojiro.

Ren checked the time again. 6:32 PM. The birthday date was April 23rd. Ren wondered whose birthday it was. There was something vaguely familiar about this Sae, now that he thought about it. Who did her facial features remind him of. . .

"I guess I can deliver this cake for you. What's the address?" asked Ren.

". . .you sure you'll be all right doing this?"

"It's no biggie. Not like I have any plans after this anyway, seeing as I'm not allowed to roam the city this late," said Ren.

" _Hmm. Very well. Take an Uber and I'll refund you. The trains have likely been delayed in a chain effect because of this shutdown. I'll text you the address right now_."

The phone call ended. Ren's phone buzzed. He tapped open Sojiro's message then copied the address into his Maps app. The loading icon briefly lingered before the travel information listed.

 _Hmm. An hour by car but. . .how do I know there's going to be no traffic congestion from my side, too?_ Thought Ren.

This delivery might take longer than the GPS app told Ren. He had better hurry now.

Ren heard a plastic bag rustle behind him. It was Shiori.

"You forgot Morgana in your bag," said Shiori, handing it over.

In Shiori's other hand was the new medicine Shiori just bought from Tae. Despite the risk they took today with the testing, Ren conceded it was a good thing for them to stock on this stuff.

"Could you look after Morgana tonight, Shiori? I know it's still my shift with him but Sojiro asked me a favour to deliver something and I think I might return late," said Ren.

Morgana stuck his head out of Ren's bag.

"I am not used to eating dinner late, if you don't mind," Morgana declared in pride.

Shiori shrugged.

"Yeah, no problem. Today wasn't bad, don't you think?" said Shiori.

Ren frowned. Shiori probably found the seven hours of K.O convenient, now that she was no longer sleepy. Ren decided not to bitch about what happened. Time was of essence and Shiori sometimes liked to troll Ren when they argued. Ren let Morgana out of his bag then hurried back to Leblanc.

X

The cake was already boxed, behind the counter. Ren carefully slipped the cake-box into a brown paper bag Sojiro kept for large take-outs. With the cake, Ren left Leblanc for the pickup point with his Uber driver.

A white Suzuki showed up; a talkative woman for the driver. Ren did not mind the banter at first. But as they drove on and slowed into the highways, Ren realised his fears about traffic jams were going to be true. This ride was going to make him late.

"What's in that paper-bag you got there?" asked the driver.

"A cake."

"Ooooh. A friend's birthday?"

"Nah. Nothing like that," said Ren.

Ren checked the time again. 8:10 PM. Welp. He was officially late. So much for trying.

"Do you know much longer it will be, until we reach there?" asked Ren.

"Heh. My guess? Not for another fifty minutes with this slowdown," said the driver, pouting at Ren from her rear-view mirror.

Ren mouthed 'fifty' incredulously. Ren sat back on his seat, disappointed. What a lame-ass day this turned out to be. The birthday person was probably going tear him apart for delivering his/her cake, one hour late.

"It's because of that mental shutdown on that highway. Did you hear about it?" asked the driver.

"Yeah. . .I did. Pretty much why I didn't take the train instead," said Ren.

"This is all the governments fault, honestly. They don't care when they see how much these shutdowns are hurting Japan. Why can't they even stop these shutdowns?" complained the driver.

Ren looked out the car window. Tokyo city was dark and twinkling.

"Can they do anything? From what I hear, these shut-downs are pretty random from normal people who had no criminal records. How would they predict and stop it?" asked Ren.

From the rear-view mirror, Ren could see the driver was visibly uncomfortable at Ren's question.

"I. . .I don't know! But isn't it their job to make sure stuff like this doesn't happen to us people anyway? What are we paying all these taxes for? Probably to feed their greed while us commonfolk live in worry and struggle," said the driver.

Ren shrugged. He did not care too much about the topic anyway.

"I bet he will fix it. That young and charismatic politician that was on TV the other day."

"Who?" asked Ren, sounding impassioned.

"Masayoshi Shido."

Ren stiffened. His face briefly contorted in hard lines before he remembered himself. Ren forced himself to relax before the driver noticed.

The general public favoured the one person Ren despised and wanted to see go down? Ren clenched his fist on the car seat. With what Ren had in mind for the bastard, Shido's fans were going to be disappointed and terrified.

"Does he. . .seem promising to you?" Ren asked, trying to keep his voice light.

"Yes. He's been brave enough to call out on the mistakes and incompetence of the current administration. The other day, he successfully pushed for the resignation of the Transport Minister, for failing to stop these mental shutdowns on our transit systems. With that fool gone, it's one step in the right direction," the driver said, happy.

". . ."

"Do you know about him? Shido," asked the driver.

 _You wouldn't believe what I know, lady_ , thought Ren.

"Nah. I don't pay much attention to politics," said Ren.

The driver clucked, shaking her head.

"All you young people are the same. . .Try to care about something that's not AKB48! Anyway, I shall be voting for Shido's party, this year." she said.

The rest of the ride was littered with her idle chatting. It felt like the longest fifty-minutes of Ren's life.

"Ah. . .we're finally here," said the driver.

The car pulled up in the drop-off area of a swanky looking apartment tower.

Ren picked up the cake-box and exited the car.

"Thank you for safe ride," Ren said politely, through the open door.

"Be sure to give me full stars, please."

 _I oughta give you a low score for your terrible taste in politicians_ , thought Ren.

"I will."

Ren closed the door. The Suzuki drove off.

Ren checked the time. 9:02 PM. He sighed. Ren hoped this would not reflect too badly on Leblanc's services.

Ren tentatively approached the glass doors of the place. There was a number panel with a speaker. Ren pressed '41' and waited. The area here was colder than Yongen-Jaya at night, he realised. Ren's breath came out of his mouth, misty. He waited for two minutes but no one answered. Ren double-checked the address Sojiro gave him. 41. Ren buzzed that apartment again.

He waited. Waited. Nothing. Ren was getting annoyed now. The car ride was pretty long, c'mon. Ren briefly considered calling Sojiro.

 _One last time_ , he thought. Then he'll call if no one answers.

About fifteen seconds went by when Ren heard the speaker click. Finally, he thought.

" _Hello? Sis? Did you forget your keycard?_ " said a female voice.

Ren frowned. This voice. . .where had he heard it before?

The person on the intercom also sounded strange. Like she had a running nose. A cold?

" _Hello?_ "

"Hi. I'm here to deliver the cake. The. . .umm. . .birthday cake. Sorry I wasn't told who it was for. But Sae Niijima ordered it," said Ren.

" _Oh_."

She sounded surprised for some reason. Did Sojiro give him the wrong apartment number? Ren wondered.

"My apologies. . .did I get the wrong address? Sorry for the bother if I-"

" _Ah! No, no. You got the right address. I just wasn't. . ._ " the person trailed off.

 _She seems dithery about what to do with me_ , thought Ren.

Ren's fingers were starting to feel a bit stiff from the cold. What now?

The glass doors slid open.

" _Umm. . .you can bring it in. Just press forty-one on the guest panel when you're in the elevator,_ " she said.

Ren's sneakers squeaked lightly on the marble floor. While he waited for the elevator to arrive, he checked out the ground lounge surroundings. Place seemed affluent.

There was a ping. The elevator doors slid open. Ren entered and did as the person asked. Ren noticed the camera in the compartment, focus on him.

" _Fourth floor access confirmed,_ " said a female voice. The elevator began to rise.

Sae Niijima's apartment door was at the end of the corridor. Ren carefully balanced the cake-box on one hand and knocked on the door. The door opened. Upon seeing who it was, he nearly dropped the cake.

* * *

 _Yongen-Jaya._

Shiori paused from brushing. She cocked her head at the bathroom mirror, feeling weird.

"I sense a disturbance in the Force," she muttered to herself.

Shiori shrugged and carried on brushing. Must be the after-effects of Tae's medicine.

* * *

 _New York._

Conversation, laughter and wine glass clinks filled the air. Ann was not used to luxury restaurants but she decided she kind of liked this place. The guy playing on the dark piano was pretty good. Across the white-clothed table sat her parents, beaming at Ann.

"You look beautiful when your hair's down, sweet pea. Why don't you wear it like that often?" asked her mum.

Like her mother, Ann was attired in the theme of evening gown. A high collared open back & black frock dress with eddied lace.

Ann paused from the bouillabaisse, the spoon in her mouth.

"Mmm-" She laid the spoon down, "I guess it attracts too much attention when my hair is down, so I use pigtails-" Ann lowered her eyes, "-not that it's worked well enough, anyway."

"At school? Nonsense. You should not let the narrow-minded, force you to hide who you are," said her dad. He reached out and squeezed her cheek.

Ann's face went red, feeling embarrassed.

" _Dad_. I'm not five that you can just do that."

"Do what?"

Ann touched her cheek, indignant. Her father gave a deep-belly laugh.

"Hahaha. You'll always be my little girl, whether you like it or not."

Ann's dad was where she got her American-Finnish looks from. Mrs. Takamaki was the full-blooded Japanese. Ann sometimes wondered if she would have looked like her mother, had she been full Japanese.

Ann's dad sliced into his steak.

"So. Do you have boyfriend?" he asked Ann.

Ann was almost glad her face was already coloured. Ann cleared her throat and picked up her spoon, resuming on the soup.

"Boyfriend. No," said Ann.

 _But. . ._ thought Ann.

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"But why? The boys don't find you pretty?" he asked.

"Oh. _They do._ Trust me. Umm. . .I dunno why it hasn't happened yet, really," Ann said, with a nervous laughter, avoiding their eyes.

Her parents were relatively open-minded on Ann and boys. They thought being open on the subject would be a healthier emotional raising for their daughter. Of course, only after 'The Talk' happened. Safe sex, boys' capacity for good and wicked, etc etc.

Mr. Takamaki shrugged, fooled by Ann's omission of mentioning Ren. Mrs Takamaki however, studied Ann closely.

"Ann," said Mrs. Takamaki.

"Yes mum?" said Ann; she looked up, feigning innocence. Ann knew her mother sensed something with her, just now.

Mrs Takamaki considered it. Definitely, her daughter was not in a dating relationship with someone right now. Ann would have told her by now; a closeness she as a mother was (thankfully) privileged to with her teenage daughter. But it seemed like there was a guy in the picture, somehow. Ann must have had her reasons for not mentioning him yet.

"Nothing. How's the soup, dear?" asked Mrs. Takamaki.

"It's surprisingly good. Not usually a fan of fish. . ."

After dinner, Mrs. Takamaki and Ann waited outside the restaurant while Mr. Takamaki took care of the cheque, doing a small catch-up with the owner, whom he was personally acquainted with.

Ann zipped her coat. She looked nervously to her mother, who seemed aloof.

"About earlier. . ." began Ann.

"Hmm?"

"When dad asked me if I had a boyfriend," said Ann.

"I'm not doubting you, Ann."

"I know you're not. But. . ." Ann hesitated.

"But it's complicated?" suggested Mrs. Takamaki.

Ann rolled her eyes. 'Complicated' doesn't even begin to cover a guy like Ren Amamiya.

"Something like that," said Ann.

"Do you like him?" asked Mrs. Takamaki.

Not for the first time, Ann thought about it. Ren's late-night texts. How it felt like to see him every morning at Shujin. The notoriously cheesy way he saved her from Kamoshida, before the volleyball rally. All the big things, like when they fought the dragon together. All the little things, like how dark his grey eyes were. Those eyes, looking back at her.

". . .I think I do," admitted Ann; she suppressed a gasp.

"Well?"

"What?" asked Ann.

"Have you two kissed?" asked Mrs. Takamaki.

"N-n-no. We have. . .we have not," stammered Ann, her face getting warm.

Mrs. Takamaki laughed.

"What's so funny?" Ann asked, annoyed.

"Look at you, getting so worked up over a guy you haven't even gone first base with yet. I'd find it cute. . .if it wasn't so lame," laughed Mrs. Takamaki.

"Mum. C'mon. Can't you be normal and say something like 'Well Ann, I'm glad you're taking it slow' or something," huffed Ann.

"Tch! Your father and I went with the flow. You think we cared about appropriate timing when we married young? We didn't. Marshall and I understood each other and. . ." Mrs. Takamaki sighed happily. For a brief moment, her mother almost looked fifteen years younger to Ann here.

Mrs. Takamaki smiled, her eyes distant, ". . .it was real. It still is."

"You never doubted dad? Not even once?" asked Ann.

"Like I said, we went with the flow. When we fought, we fought unrestrained. When there were other women in Marshall's life, or other men in mine, we spent passions like any young curious heart. Each time, your father and I gravitated back to each other because of our chemistry," said Mrs. Takamaki.

"Other women. . ." repeated Ann.

Ann thought about Shiori. Comedienne and Joker were so close. Ann sometimes wondered how they were not a couple yet. A pang of jealousy sprang up in Ann. It was an emotion Ann had hardly felt in her life, before.

Mrs. Takamaki read Ann's changing expressions.

"You doubt him," said her mother.

"It's more than that! He frustrates me so much sometimes, mum. I hate how he's just as stubborn as I am," scowled Ann.

Mrs. Takamaki hugged her daughter, rubbing her head. Ann rested her hand against her mother, like she used to do when she was little.

"You know those dating visual novels I see you play? On that gaming handheld you have. I believe Shiho gifted it to you," said Mrs. Takamaki.

". . .yeah."

"In real life; real people aren't like those perfect video game characters who will blindly wait to accept your love. And vice versa. You've already known other guys, from your school, even male models from that agency you work part-time for. I'm sure you were attracted to a few of them because that's a normal human instinct. But after all those eligible suitors, you've somehow come full stop to this individual," said Mrs. Takamaki.

"What if I'm not his full stop, though?" Ann asked in a small voice.

"Then you let him go. That's the flow. But don't underestimate yourself, Ann. Just because he's still making up his mind, just because you might not be the only girl in Japan, it doesn't mean it has become meaningless. Give him a little time to fall in love," said Mrs. Takamaki.

Mr. Takamaki exited the restaurant.

"Sorry for the wait. You ladies want ice cream?" he asked excitedly.

"And trust me. When they fall, they fall hard," her mum whispered with a wink.

* * *

Makoto Niijima smiled at Ren, holding the door open. Ren's mouth was agape. It was this one's birthday?!

"Oh. It's you," said Makoto, her smile faltering when she recognised Ren.

Makoto was wearing sleeping pyjama, black silk with tiny cartoon owls patterning. Ren also noticed her eyes were red – not just the colour of her pupils – but crying red. . .and a bit puffy. Oh no. The late delivery made her cry.

 _Crap_.

"I'm sorry for the delayed delivery. There was congestion on the highway," said Ren.

Her eyebrows were aquiver in thought.

"That's alright. I didn't know there was a cake on the way, actually. Sis must have. . ." Makoto paused, looking at the box in Ren's arms. She looked genuinely surprised.

". . .she must have wanted to surprise me today," Makoto said quietly.

"Sae Niijima is your sister? Is she home?" asked Ren.

"No. She was supposed to be earlier but the nature of her work forced her to stay back," said Makoto.

Her words sounded sad and reproachful to Ren.

Ren got more than he bargained for today. Shujin's school president being the recipient and now this? The apartment sounded quiet too. Did that mean there was not even a party for her birthday? Where were Makoto's friends?

Makoto held out the door wide open.

"You. . .can set the cake on the table," said Makoto.

Ren hesitated. He was expecting to offload the cake right at the door, not step into someone's home.

 _I'm still kinda new to this whole catering business though. Maybe I should listen to her for now_ , thought Ren.

Ren stepped into the apartment. It was a pretty decent crib, Ren thought. The place also seemed very neat and tidy. How many lived here? He wondered. Ren realised only the hallway light was on, which meant he must have woken Makoto up. There definitely had been no party here. Which was weird. Makoto was famous to every student at Shujin, so surely others would have. . .

An awkward feeling settled into Ren's stomach.

 _I hope I'm not the only person from Shujin who visited her on her birthday_ , Ren thought.

"You OK? The dining table is just there," said Makoto, pointing to a dark table that was plainly in sight.

"Uh. . .yeah. Sorry," said Ren.

Ren carefully laid the cake-box onto the table, removing it from the paperbag. Makoto peeked from behind, her hands clasped on her chest.

"What flavour is it?" asked Makoto.

Sojiro never told him.

"I have no idea," admitted Ren.

Makoto was still looking intently at the box.

"Umm. . .do you want me to-" Ren gestured to the cake-box, "You seem pretty curious to see what it looks like," Ren lightly teased her.

Makoto nodded.

"Sure. I'll get the knife," said Makoto, hurrying to the kitchen.

 _Wait. What? I. . ._

Where was this girl's social sense? You only cut your own birthday cake with your family and friends. Ren was starting to feel incredulous and a sense of incoming trouble. He wasn't sure if Sae would be happy to know her little sister was alone with a teenage boy, at this time in the night.

Makoto paused at the kitchen drawer, studying Ren. She had already heard the rumours herself, that Kamoshida was going to get this new exchange student expelled, along with Ryuji.

 _This guy hangs out with Shiori? Her terrible influence must have been what got him into trouble_ , thought Makoto.

Makoto kind of felt sorry for Ren. Shiori was so petty and jealous about what happened in the student council room that day, that she was using guys like Ryuji and Ren to fight with Kamoshida. . .possibly relating to those silly rumours about the volleyball coach and Shiho.

From the corner of his eye, Ren saw Makoto lean forward to the draw, rummaging for the knife. As she did, the V-hem of her pyjama top drooped, giving Ren a half-view of her bra-less chest. Makoto did not realise this.

Ren's jaw dropped. Then he looked away; perhaps too slowly, some would accuse.

 _Jeez_. _This is like some porno plot_ , thought Ren.

Ren opened the cakebox. A chocolate cake with a surprisingly fancy topping faced up at Ren. Makoto turned eighteen today.

"Where are your parents?" asked Ren.

Makoto returned with the knife.

"Oh. . .um. They're not really around. Mum passed away when I was little. Dad died three years ago. By the way, are you Shiori's friend?" asked Makoto.

Ren considered the sharp glinting knife in Makoto's hands. He decided not to test the mercy of his bad luck.

"Shiori? . . .nah. Not really-"

"Strange. I could have sworn seeing her with you, in the school corridors," said Makoto frowning.

Ren laughed nervously.

"Oh that. Ms. Kawakami asked her to be my peer-tutor. Oshiro-san was hounding me about some homework thing," he said, speaking fast.

"Oh? Guess she is capable of some basic responsibility then," scowled Makoto.

Ren swallowed.

"I'll umm. . .guess I'll be going now," said Ren, slowly backing away from the table, from Makoto. From this dim and lonely lit apartment - with a birthday girl who had spent the day by herself.

A darkling of realisation and embarrassment came in those falun red eyes. It seemed Makoto realised how socially odd she just acted here.

"I see. . ." she said; Makoto placed the knife on the table.

Ren gripped the door handle.

 _By the way, in case you weren't feeling terrible enough about leaving her like this, she's also got that 'my-parents-are-dead' backstory_ , Ren's brain told him.

No shit.

Ren left the apartment, leaving Makoto with her birthday cake. When he was in the elevator, Ren realised something about Shujin's school president. Makoto may be popular with the teachers and other students, but she was somehow, a lonely person.

* * *

 _Monday morning. Classroom 2-D._

"Ayyy. Someone's back," said Shiori.

"Heya," said Ann, sailor saluting Shiori. Ann sat her bag on her desk. She noticed Ren was not here.

"Where's Ren?" asked Ann.

"Washroom. How was New York?"

"I had a nice time. I was happy to see my parents, after so long," Ann's voice dropped to a whisper, "They asked me a million questions about what happened to Shiho. When I told them, dad was so furious he wanted to fly over to Japan and kill Kamoshida himself," said Ann.

"Ha! I wouldn't have stopped your pa if I were you," said Shiori.

Ann rolled her eyes.

"I almost didn't. Fuck that asshole!" Ann swore loudly, mortifying the other students in the classroom.

Ann knew Ren had entered the classroom when the murmurs around her grew louder. Ann's breath momentarily hitched when she saw him. Mum's words were ringing in her ears now.

Ren briefly froze when he saw Ann. Ren was expecting her back today but for some reason he was feeling a bit shy now. Why was she looking at him like that? Was there something on his face?

"Ann," said Ren. Ren took his seat.

"Good morning," said Ann.

"Morning. How was NY?" asked Ren.

". . ."

 _Hello. Ann. You have a voice_ , she thought to herself.

"New York was. . .good," said Ann.

 _Smooth_ , she thought sarcastically to herself.

"They say shopping there is the best in the world. Which you happen to love," said Shiori.

"Yeah! Mum and I. . ."

The three of them chatted until Kawakami showed up for homeroom.

X

At lunchtime, Ryuji joined the three in 2-D. It felt relaxing for Ren to have a normal conversation with everyone. No topics that were about the metaverse or some shitty adult. They actually spoke about normal things like that time Ann visited Fiji for the holidays, or Ryuji's Gunpla collection, or a funny story about one of Shiori's ex-boyfriends. It reminded Ren of what Ryuji asked last week. Would Ren miss these three if he was forced to return home?

At some point, Mishima approached their corner. Shiori broke off in conversation, which caused everyone else to look at who was here.

"Hey Mishima," said Ryuji

"Hey guys. Uh, I came to tell Ren. . ." said Mishima.

"Hmm?" said Ren, with sushi still in his mouth.

Mishima gestured outside the classroom 2-D. Ren made an 'Oh' face, when they saw who it was. Shiori looked as if Mara was waiting outside, having come back from the dead to kill them all.

"Who are you. . .eh? The school prez? What does she want with Ren?" asked Ryuji.

"Yes. What does she want with Ren?" Shiori hissed.

Ann looked puzzled at Shiori's change in behaviour. Ryuji whispered to her, "Shiori hates Makoto. I think the feeling is mutual between the two."

"Why?" Ann whispered back.

Ryuji shrugged.

Mishima said, "She asked me to call you out since students aren't allowed in classrooms they are not allocated to-" Mishima paused frown at Ryuji, "she says it's about last Saturday night."

"Saturday night?!" Shiori, Ann and Ryuji said in unison.

"What were you doing on Saturday night with her?" Ann asked; she sounded a bit heated.

Ren almost choked, hurriedly swallowing the sushi.

". . .nothi-"

"I don't think you should keep Niijima-san waiting, Amamiya-san," interrupted Mishima.

Ren sighed. He got up and went over to meet Makoto. From behind, he felt the eyes of his friends burning into the back of his head.

Stereotypically, Makoto clutched two books onto her chest, like the diligent student she was. Ren was reminded of the sneak peek he got there a few nights ago.

"Your face looks red. Are you sick? You should visit the nurse if you are," said Makoto.

Ren cleared his throat.

"I'm fine, thanks. Is there something you want?" he asked.

Makoto bit the corner of her lip. She cast a furtive glance to the inside of classroom 2-D. Shiori looked very tilted. Although Makoto did not show it, it gave her some small pleasure to know she was ruining that bitch's day by showing her face here.

"I came here to apologise for my extraordinarily off behaviour, that night. I realise I may have made you feel uncomfortable, on top of the fact that I irresponsibly exploited Leblanc's delivery service," said Makoto.

 _But you were the one who had a flat birthday_ , thought Ren.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure the Boss wouldn't have felt you exploited the delivery service," said Ren; he smiled, feeling sorry for her.

Makoto nodded to the direction of Ren's friends.

"Shiori isn't your friend, huh?" said Makoto.

Ren looked back at the gang. Oh boy.

 _SOMEONE GIVE ME A BREAK, PLEASE_ , Ren internally screamed.

"I got. . .no bullshit excuse here," Ren admitted.

"You do know books can be used as a murder weapon," said Makoto.

 _?_

At Ren's confused expression, Makoto added flustered, "I mean, like how I had a knife that night. That's why you lied, right? So the joke is, books can kill here, get it?"

 _You are socially awkward_ , thought Ren.

"Oh. Yes. Haha. Mathematics can be deadly," he said.

"Right then. Thanks for hearing me out. I bid you a good day," said Makoto.

She walked away a bit faster then Ren was used to seeing her move. Must be Shiori's dagger looks that were making her uncomfortable, Ren decided.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunchtime.

Upon returning, Ryuji was the first to get questions onto Ren, "Dude, you had a date with Niijima during the weekend? What was it like? Did you rail her?"

Ryuji's questions pretty much escalated his trepidation of explaining himself to Ann and Shiori.

 _Thanks Ryuji. You da real one_ , Ren thought sarcastically.

"No. No. And no. By the way, the bell has rung. So, shoo!" said Ren.

"Awww man. But you owe me a detailed explanation," said Ryuji.

Ryuji left.

Ren sat at his seat.

"I can explain," said Ren.

Shiori looked scarily calm. Ren swallowed. Ann on the other hand, did not seem pleased at the revelation that Ren was possibly hoeing around while she was gone.

"That delivery. . .was it actually a delivery?" asked Shiori, her voice sounding deadpan.

"Yes! It was! It was cake!" said Ren.

"Cake." repeated Shiori. Her eyes widened.

Shiori picked up her phone and checked the date. Oh wow. She completely forgot about April 23rd.

"Ahh. It was her birthday," remarked Shiori.

Shiori relaxed a bit.

"Now will both of you relax?" said Ren, exasperate.

"If you were actually delivering a cake, why did she call you out today?" Ann snapped.

"I should have poisoned it," muttered Shiori.

Before Ren could reply to either of the two, Mr. Ushimaru entered to class, imperiously commanding for everyone to settle into silence for today's lecture.

* * *

With the way Monday was kicked off, everyone was on the edge. The boarding meeting was supposed to be next week. Ann was ridiculously stubborn about giving a chance to hear Ren out. Evil Shiori low-key encouraged Ann's jealousy because of her own 'dislike' for Makoto, which just annoyed the hell out of Ren because he did not do anything wrong. Ryuji thought Ren was a legend and kept praising him for it in the group chat for 'scoring', which made things more awkward and difficult. Morgana did not seem too interested in human trivialities, apart from nagging at Ren to buy this cat bed he saw on eBay, which Ren gave in to. How did that cat use eBay? He wondered.

"Make sure you order two. One for the café and one for the cinema," meowed Morgana.

"Yeah whatever."

Meanwhile, Kamoshida continued to be absent. The rumours and gossips were growing bolder now. Pretty much everyone in the school was wondering what was going on, given that the volleyball team had been forced to miss the qualifying heats rounds, which took a hard hit to Shujin volleyball team's prestigious reputation - one already marred by the suicide of one of the players. The principal was seen around the school irate and barking at students who were even slightly out of line. Ren had been careful to avoid him.

One night before the board meeting, Ren paced around his attic room, nervous.

"What's wrong?" asked Morgana.

"Tomorrow's the board meeting," said Ren.

"Ah yes. Don't worry, it will be fine," said Morgana.

"Yeah? You didn't sound too sure back then."

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," said Morgana.

Ren halted in his tracks.

". . .have you been watching Star Wars at the cinema?" Ren asked.

". . .maybe?"

* * *

 _Monday. May 2_ _nd_ _. Day of the Board Meeting._

A sleepy-looking Shujin student yawned.

"Mondays are such a drag. . .why couldn't they give us today off, too? We have the rest of the week off starting tomorrow."

"Yea, it's ridiculous. Speaking of, what's up with those calling cards? The ones about Kamoshida and 'stealing his distorted desires' or whatever. Did they catch who was behind it?"

"No idea. I'm sure it's just a prank. No one's taking it seriously."

 _Later that morning._

The school hall was filled with students in assembly. Some of them were befuddled over why they were here, as their homeroom teachers informed them about it out of nowhere.

"What's with the sudden morning assembly?"

"I bet it's about that girl who jumped off the roof."

"Gee. They don't have to tell us ' _Suicide is bad, m'kay?_ '"

"There were those weird calling cards too. Haha. Don't tell me the teachers are freaked out too?"

Ann Takamaki was feeling queasy. She had barely eaten this morning, feeling like something awful was going to happen today. She rubbed her arms, looking at the students around her. Ann could not locate any of the other three. Maybe there were standing far away.

From another corner of the assembly, Shiori narrowed her eyes at the principal on the stage podium. Something had happened today. She was sure. Neither Ren or Ryuji were with her. They got separated in the chaos of assembling here.

The principal spoke into the mic:

" _Let's begin this school-wide morning assembly. As you all know, a tragic event took place last month. Shiho Suzui was a student who was much loved by her teachers and peers. . ._ "

"Shut the fuck up, lardass," muttered Shiori.

" _Everyone here has a bright future ahead. Each of you matter a lot to me personally. . ._ "

At another segment in the assembly, Ren stood with Ryuji.

"He's talking a lot of shit today," Ryuji said to Ren.

Ren nodded.

". . . _I implore that you rethink the importance of life and-_ "

There was a disturbance at one of the school hall's exit. A door swung open, wailing and interrupting. Ann gasped, seeing who it was.

Kamoshida was there. He looked different to Ren. Before, the volleyball coach walked tall, his shoulders set back with that smug chin up. Today, Kamoshida looked lethargic, slumped and. . . _ashamed._

"No way. . ." said Ryuji.

" _Mr. Kamoshida, what's the-_ "

"I. . .have been reborn. That is why I will confess everything to you all," said Kamoshida, his despondent voice carrying all over the hall.

Hundreds of heads tilted in accidental choreograph as the students watched Kamoshida slowly walk up onto the podium. His footsteps dragged and _thumped_ echoey. The principal and the rest of the staff seemed too flabbergast to react.

Kamoshida took centre stage.

Ann swallowed. Was he going to. . .?!

"I have repeatedly done things that were. . .unbecoming of a teacher. Verbally abusing students. . .physically abusing my team. . .sexually taking advantage of female students. . .and pimping out the male players of the volleyball team. . .I am the reason Shiho Suzui killed herself! I raped her in my office. Repeatedly. Only the last time was more. . .violent," declared Kamoshida.

Ren's mouth went dry.

Kamoshida fell to his knees and began weeping. Loud, ugly uncontrollable sobs. Beyond it, you could have heard a pin drop in the shocked silence that filled the rest of the school hall.

Kamoshida raised his face, tears and snot running in excess.

"I thought of this school as my own castle. . .There were even students that I sentenced to expulsion, simply because I didn't like them. . .simply because they tried to get the truth about me out. I will of course. . .rescind those. I am truly sorry for putting innocent youths through such horrible acts. . .breaking the track team on purpose, all those terrible things. . .I am an arrogant, shallow and shameful person. No, I'm worse than that. . .I will take responsibility and kill myself for it!" Kamoshida cried out.

A momentary pause.

Then the uproar erupted. The principal was shouting something at Kamoshida but Ren could not hear him over the other students who were reacting to the confession. From the sidelines, teachers were trying to hustle students back into their classes. Then above all these voices, Ann's voice cut across, silencing everyone.

"You bastard! You coward! Don't you dare run from this! Shiho is dead because of you! You don't get an easy way out!" she screamed.

Kamoshida made out Ann from the crowd. This girl. . .the torturous hell he had put her through, Kamoshida thought.

"You're right. I should be punished under the law and atone for my crimes. . .I did horrible things to Takamaki-san as well. In return for giving Suzui-san a position on the team. . .I tried to force her into having sexual relations with me. . ."

Murmurs of disgust swept the crowd.

"As of today, I will resign from my position as an instructor and turn myself in. Someone, please call the police!" Kamoshida begged.

Ryuji's jaw was dropped. Holy. Shit. What they did. . .worked.

"This morning's assembly is over! Return to your classes immediately!" called out a teacher.

Other students began to chatter:

"Wait, those calling cards that were sent out. . ."

"Ehhh?! Does this mean the Phantom Thieves thing was for real!?"

"Did they do black magic to Kamoshida!?"

"C'mon, there's no way you can steal someone's heart!"

"But why else would he start saying things like he'll kill himself or turn himself in?"

"Pssshht. He's just doing this because he was about to get ratted out. Don't they go easier on you if you turn yourself in?"

"I wonder what happened. . ."

"Who knows? But man, Kamoshida turned out to be one sick bastard."

Ren pulled out his phone.

_Ren: Hide in the hall's washrooms while everyone leaves. Then we're having a meeting about this. _

_Ryuji: OhMaGawdtheChangeofHeartWorked. AHHHHH _

_Ann: His heart really did change… _

Shiori read the messages. She looked up at Kamoshida. The principal was trying to pull him out of sight. But it was too late. Kamoshida was a damned man. The police were on their way.

_Shiori: Will do, Leader. _

From now on, nothing will ever be the same.

* * *

 _ **pops champagne.**_ **Kamoshida arc, over ! (•̀o•́)ง**


	18. Gods and Monsters

.

 _The morning Suguru Kamoshida confessed._

Kamoshida's confession brought chaos, confusion, horror and even the police to Shujin. During the pandemonium of breaking up the assembly, Ren saw Kawakami's face. His homeroom teacher appeared shaken. It seemed like Kamoshida had easily fooled most of the faculty too.

When most of the students were finally dispersed back to their classrooms, Ren rendezvoused with Shiori and Ryuji. They were still waiting for Ann, who was held back by guilty gossip-mongers who wanted to apologise to her.

On a desk laid the Treasure of Kamoshida's heart. A perfect replica; Olympic gold medal. A shiny yellow glint danced off against the sunlight.

Ryuji whistled in 'wow' as he looked at the medal in wonder.

"He really did undergo a change of heart," said Ryuji.

"You seem pale," observed Ren.

"Am I? I guess I'm just. . .in shock. But also unsure. Did we really make the right call doing this to him?" asked Ryuji.

"He's going to jail. Where he can he can hurt no one. What's the worst that could happen?" Shiori said nonchalant, twirling her braid.

"Yeah, true that," said Ryuji.

The rooftop door clicked and swung open. Their heads turned to see it was Ann. Ren raised his eyebrows slightly. Out of everyone, today's confession must have struck a chord deepest with Ann. How was she feeling? Ren wondered.

Ann gave her trademarked sunny smile.

"Hey! What I miss?" asked Ann.

"Just wondering aloud if we made the right call," said Ryuji.

Ann's expression hardened.

"We definitely did. After what he. . ." Ann's voice caught, a lump in her throat. She tried to get the next words out but the immense welling of emotion within her, stuck her tongue.

Ren dropped his hands from the folded posture. Shiori stopped twirling her braid.

Tears crystallised in those sun beamed blue eyes.

". . .Shiho. . ." choked Ann.

Ann crouched, her shoulders shaking.

Ren and Ryuji exchanged looks. Shiori dropped her casual demeanour, her eyebrows arching in concern. A hand rubbed Ann's shoulder as Shiori knelt with her, wanting to comfort.

"Ann. . ." said Shiori.

Could he have prevented Shiho's death? Ren wondered. He wish he did.

 _Today is a bittersweet victory_ , thought Ren.

Ann sniffed, raising herself up.

"Thank you, Shiori. I'm. . .OK," said Ann.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened, Ann," said Shiori.

"You think? I sometimes think I was a weak person. I couldn't do anything to save her," said Ann.

"You were strong enough to exact revenge for her-" Ren said softly, "-It's not the ideal turn of events. But there is some closure."

"Ren's right. I was impressed when you spared mercy for Shadow Kamoshida too. You had the choice of killing him right there," said Ryuji.

"Oh. That wasn't mercy," said Ann, wiping her cheeks.

"Huh?" said Ryuji.

Ann took a deep breath.

"Death would have been too easy for that dickbag. I wanted him to see everything he built in his life, decimate before his eyes. His popularity, reputation, power. All of it. I hope he suffers for decades in prison as he thinks about what he lost," Ann said fiercely.

Ryuji's eyes were round like saucers, seeing this side of Ann.

"What are we going to do about this?" asked Shiori, pointing to the medal.

"Sell it I guess. Hang on, let me check how we can get this for," said Ryuji, pulling out his phone.

"We should celebrate this," said Ann.

"It looks like. . .we can get about 30k yen with selling this. Huh, not bad," said Ryuji.

"Then we'll use that money," said Ann.

"You're fine with this?" Ren asked her.

Ann's chin lowered.

"Yes. . .Shiho is gone. That won't change no matter how much I wish it would. I know I will be grieving for her too. But if Shiho saw me now, she'd tell me it's pointless for Kamoshida to be behind bars if we still allow him to make us feel stricken and scared," said Ann.

"That airsoft shop would buy this sort of thing," said Shiori.

Ryuji slapped Ren on the back.

"Then we'll leave it to you to sell the Treasure. Where are we celebrating, by the way?" said Ryuji.

"Leave that to me," said Ann.

* * *

 _11 PM. Leblanc Café._

Though the café was closed for the night, there were two adolescents downstairs, making use of the coffee-making facilities and leisure. Shiori sat on a bar stool, sipping the blend Ren prepared for her. At one of the booths, slept Morgana, falling slumber minutes earlier. Behind the counter was Ren, wearing an apron. He was on his phone texting Ann while Shiori savoured the drink.

"Not bad. I finally get why the old folks spend the elevenses here. Never had coffee that tasted like fruity chocolate, before. What did you put in it?" asked Shiori.

Ren paused from the IM-chat, furrowing in thought.

". . .a hard bean variant from Guatemala. Sojiro classifies it 'SHB'. Strictly Hard Bean. Grown at high altitudes. . .4,500 feet above sea level, if I'm remembering right," said Ren.

"Haha. Sounds like the Boss even teaches you about coffee bean origins. I didn't know baristas went that far," said Shiori.

Ren minimised the IM-app and set his phone to stand-by. He poured a cup for himself too.

"Me neither. Sojiro is kind of strange, that way," said Ren.

"Why?"

"He acts kind of gruff to his customers at times. Yet somehow, he's still in business. I guess I'd attribute it to him putting a lot of skill and care into the coffee blends and curry made in Leblanc. Keeps the regulars coming back. Still. . .I think he could be doing a lot better if he wasn't so. . ." Ren rolled his eyes, ". . .abrasive."

"Being old as he is must have something to do with it. I mean, look at us. We're still teenagers and we're already salty," sighed Shiori.

"Yes. But we got puberty for excuse," said Ren.

Shiori threw her arms up.

"Okay! Maybe he went through a bad divorce or something. Is Sojiro married?"

"Not sure. He seems to have someone waiting for him at home though. You noticed anyone there?" asked Ren.

"Nah. I mean, I know where his house is. Never seen anyone else outside though. Can't be bothered to stalk and find out," said Shiori.

"When did you start staying in Yongen-Jaya?" asked Ren.

"Hmm. December. Last year. After dad kicked me out," said Shiori.

"Your old man chased you out?"

"Maybe that's overstating it haha. But. . .that week we had a huge fight. Dad wasn't happy with my withdrawal from the family after the accident. Then there was the crowd I was hanging with. . .coming home late. Sometimes I would be gone for more than twenty-four hours, which pissed him off more," said Shiori.

"Could you really blame him for being upset?"

Shiori clasped her hands. Ren's eyes lingered on her left sleeved arm.

"I don't blame him for anything. The things I do. The way I am. . .I cannot apologise for it. Strangest thing about society y'know? They'd expect me to change for them yet they're the ones that stay the same," said Shiori.

Shiori paused before taking another sip. She added in an amused tone, "Maybe I could give him a phone call. He must worry that I intend to become a porn star after high school hehe."

Ren almost choked on the hot coffee. When he swallowed, he asked, "Would you?"

"What do you reckon? Think I'd be good at it?" Shiori teased.

Ren blankly stared at her.

"I neither have an informed, nor professional opinion on that," said Ren.

Shiori shook her in disapproval.

"You're dull when you act composed and calm," said Shiori.

"Not my fault you're boring," Ren said on purpose, knowing that would annoy Shiori.

Clefts formed on Shiori's forehead; vein-throb.

"Whatever dude. No. I do not intend to become an AV star. I am friends with one though. Met her at a university information session, Shujin once hosted for us," said Shiori.

"What is she like?"

"You'd be surprised. Came from a well-off family. Impressive degree accreditation," said Shiori.

That puzzled Ren.

"Then why do porn?" he asked.

Shiori shrugged.

"I never inquired. If _I_ had to guess. . .it must have been a mix of boredom and curiosity. A lot of the upper-class live in a detached world. She could do stuff like porn and still go back and enjoy the rest of her life with all that _cha-ching!_ Without ever needing to work. These types got a backstory, like their sexuality was awakened by one of daddy's millionaire friends at some resort while she was a minor and. . .oops-" Shiori quirked her mouth, "-I've said too much."

"She told you that part, didn't she?"

"No comment."

They both settled into a comfortable silence, sipping the SHB blend. The slow _chik – chik_ ticking of an analogue clock contributed to the relaxing vibe in the woody café. Ren noticed Morgana's pelt would rise and fall in synchronous with the clock. He broke the quiet:

"I've been think a lot about us. The gang I mean. These powers we have. Feel kind of apprehensive of what may be coming next," said Ren.

Shiori nodded.

"Stuff like this don't happen for nothing," said Shiori.

"Aren't you scared?" asked Ren.

"No? I don't have a reason to be. Besides, I'm feeling kind of cocky after kicking ass in the castle," said Shiori.

"We nearly died several times," Ren reminded her.

"Yet here we are. Healthy, intact and falling in love," said Shiori, smirking.

Ren ignored the dig about him and Ann.

"Right. Well, I think it's important we ponder potential consequences," said Ren.

"Which we will. When it's time to do so. Until then, we deserve a break, Ren. We took down Shujin's scumbag. You know what that makes us? Heroes. Many students are spared from Kamoshida now," Shiori said airily.

 _You don't know what Igor has told me though. About 'ruin'. A powerful enemy_ , thought Ren.

"It's not like I'm purposely ignoring how whacked this whole thing is. I've thought some too, as you know; that night when I screened 'wallflower'. You've been thinking about the correlation of sudden changes in a person, I bet. What we did to Kamoshida - and these mental shutdowns we've been hearing about, right?" asked Shiori.

"I have. It's like there's a big shadow of a conspiracy in all this. And it bothers me," Ren said.

"Don't let it. There is something more important, right in front of you," Shiori said firmly.

"What?"

"Ann. You saw how she broke down today, Ren," said Shiori.

". . ."

"I know that pain she feels. Those guilt trips from losing a friend and you wonder if you could have been better. Mizuki was my Shiho. Looking back, I'm grateful I had someone to support me during that episode," said Shiori.

"You're telling me. . .I should pursue her romantically?" asked Ren.

"Yes. Take my advice; ditch that pride and stubbornness. Put yourself out there for her, while she's going through this thing. Girls like her don't wait forever. Another guy could come along, especially now that her reputation has come clean with the school. I would gag if some loser in our class asked her out and she said yes. Heck, even Ryuji's not out of contention. They've known each other since middle school," said Shiori.

Ren carefully kept his face neutral as Shiori spoke words that flared a kind of jealousy he was not acquainted with. Another guy asking Ann out? The thought made him want to summon Arsene and wreak havoc.

"What is wrong? Did she do something to you, that you're holding back?" asked Shiori.

 _More like what I've done to her. What I can do to her_ , thought Ren.

"More coffee?" Ren offered, trying to change the subject.

Shiori squinted at him.

"You'll crack. Someone or something will make you. Mark my words. You'll be dating her before this month is over. . .and yes, I'll have more."

After walking Shiori back to the cinema, Ren returned to Leblanc and locked up the place. He carefully scooped up a sleeping Morgana and carried the cat upstairs. The cat-bed Ren ordered had arrived two days earlier. Ren gently laid Morgana onto it. Whiskers twitched, but otherwise Ren did not wake him up.

Ren threw himself on the bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes. What a day. The change of heart phenomenon really worked. Which meant. . .

Ren checked his BlackBerry's Notes app. A pinned pic of Masayoshi Shido was in it. Ren's grip tightened on the phone.

 _You won't live to serve as Japan's Prime Minister_ , thought Ren.

The phone vibrated. Message from Ann.

_Ann: Goodnight (￣▽￣)ゞ_

His grip softened.

_Ren: Night. _

Ren dozed to sleep. Slipping into the planes where he first met Igor.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, Ren realised he was back at the creepy courtyard from the beginning. The same prison uniform. Same ball and chain. A familiar guillotine was a bit closer to Ren now. The new addition was Arsene, who stood silent by Ren. It felt comforting to have his persona in this place.

Ren knelt, feeling the soft snow on the dark blue cobblestone. They disintegrated like glittering stardust, at the touch of his hand. He started to trace a word, mini-cosmos following his finger.

"I see you pulled off a successful heist."

Ren's fingers paused on dotting the question mark. _NEXT?_

Over Ren's shoulder, Igor saw what Ren wrote. A knowing grin enveloped Igor's strange visage.

" _Great artists and thieves are similar. They both know how to steal your soul_ ," said Igor.

"A thief to steal hearts for some unknown end-game you have?" asked Ren.

"There is an end-game. Nothing of malice. Not against you anyway," said Igor.

Again, that earthy laugh which made Ren uncomfortable.

"That's not enough, Igor. I need you to give me something, if we're going to be in for a long road. I need to know this isn't going to end in some cliché betrayal," said Ren.

Those creepy crackly eyes studied Ren.

"You see that guillotine there?" said Igor.

"Kind of hard not to notice that piece of medieval here," Ren said, terse.

"That was created by you, not me. The same is true for the rest of this place," said Igor.

 _You've already told me this_ , said Ren.

"Human psychology is a fascinating thing, wouldn't you agree, Justine?" Igor asked the tiny twin.

Justine bobbed her head.

"Do you know inmate; what is the missing link betwixt Man becoming God? What's the final mountain science would ever conquer before it knows everything?" asked Justine.

". . ."

"It's the human consciousness. A mystery that runs deeper than the quantum quarks and other building blocks of the universe," Caroline answered for him.

"One of the facets of consciousness's mysteries, is how humans have different personalities hidden in their subconscious. Of course, I don't mean a multiple personality disorder. But a kind of hidden…" Igor's eyes flicked to Arsene, "…masks. Personas. Almost a kind of divinity. These personalities can be a different gender or age from you. Take a look at human history. The looms that weave myths and legends. They say God created Man in his image. You know what I say? I say Man created gods and monsters in his image. Take your pick. Zeus, Jörmungandr, doppelgängers…djinns…even the Devil," growled Igor.

The sky became darker, reacting with Ren's emotions.

"All were first based on the human image. This guillotine is based on your image. The divine inside of you believes you're leading your own self to an execution. It's not me you should be wary of betrayal, Ren Amamiya. It's yourself. You're your own Cain. Your heart is the tragic epic of _Der Ring des Nibelungen_. Even if I were out to maliciously exploit you, what other avenue would you seek wisdom from, to prevent this ruin?"

 _Don't trust him_ , Ren decided.

Igor's fancy rhetoric did not satisfy Ren. But maybe he could play along for now.

"Fine. The shogi maestra you mentioned that day. Who is she exactly?"

"You'll know when you see her. She does not attend your school if that's what you're wondering," said Igor.

"She's a high school student too? Hmm."

"There is one more detail that may interest you," said Igor.

"What?"

"She can traverse the metaverse."

"You mean she's got that weird app too?" asked Ren.

"No. The origins of her gift are different to yours. Darker," said Igor.

 _Implying there's something worse than you? Funny_ , thought Ren.

". . ."

"Once again, we are out of time. I shall release you back into your own dreams, Ren Amamiya," said Igor.

* * *

 **That line Igor spoke is from Lupin the Third. I believe the director of P5 took inspiration from that thief and the OG English gentleman, Arsene Lupin. Decided it would be fitting to start the Madarame arc with a reference to that anime, Madarame the artist himself, and the Phantom Thieves.**

 **Coincidentally, the canon states that Ann's type is someone who is "Composed, mature," like an "English gentleman." _coughcough_ ReAnnIsCanon _coughcough_**


	19. Lineage

.

Fingers drummed the countertop of the kitchen stove as Ren waited five minutes for the curry to simmer. He had his earphones on, listening to _Vistoso Bosses - Delirious._ Unbeknownst to Ren, the TV in Leblanc was running a news segment on Suguru Kamoshida.

" _Onto an earlier recap. Horror has swept the country of Japan after a shocking uncover of abuse, rape and harassment were found at Shujin Academy High, an affluent high school of the Tokyo District. Former Olympic gold-medalist, Suguru Kamoshida confessed to his crimes. Police have arrested the man and remanded him in custody. Our interview team took to the school to ask questions. . ._ "

The camera feed switched to a female student. Her face was blurred out.

" _He always did seem like a loser to me, but I had noooo idea he was this bad. . ._ "

"Hey kid!"

Ren pulled off his earphones.

"Yeap?"

"Ain't that your school?"

 _?_

Ren backed out to the front to see what was showing on TV. He recognised the uniform and realised what the coverage was about.

"Er. . .yeah. It is," said Ren.

"I hope you had nothing to do with all that drama," Sojiro said sharply.

"Nah. I heard the noise but stayed out of it. Plus Kamoshida was scary. I was too scared to even look at him," said Ren, fake-gulping.

Sojiro nodded approvingly.

"Good."

* * *

In Shiori's bedroom, the web player was on, playing the same news segment.

" _He always did seem like a loser to me, but I had noooo idea he was this bad. . ._ "

Shiori snorted. She recognised that voice. One of Kamoshida's fangirls cheering at the volleyball rally. Former fangirl, Shiori supposed. Other interviews came. Teachers and students. Shiori could tell some were genuinely shocked about the truth behind Kamoshida. Others were artificial. Calling Kamoshida a creep. Said they knew this was coming. The last one annoyed her; she squashed the empty energy drink can in her hand.

 _After all the shit they gave us_ , thought Shiori.

Everyone was scattering like cockroaches now that Kamoshida's castle of glass was shattered. She wondered if Principal Kobayakawa would be spared from the scrutiny.

Shiori's phone beeped. Message from Ren:

_Ren: I'm heading to the airsoft shop tomorrow_

_Ren: To sell the medal _

_Ren: Wanna tag? _

_Shiori: Yeah np _

_Shiori: Seen the news? _

_Ren: A bit. _

_Shiori: People are funny _

* * *

After having a meal at Shibuya's Big Bang Burger joint, Shiori and Ren left for _Untouchable_. They curved into the alleyway which led to the airsoft shop; only to stop in their tracks, at the sight of two curiosity inducing men. Both were wearing dark trench coats, locked in a whisper-intense conversation. The strangers took no notice to the two students.

Ren resumed the approach to the shop with Shiori following behind. Passing-by, Ren picked up a few words, "Tip-off. . .arrest. . .illegal arms. . ."

Shiori heard it too. They both exchanged apprehensive looks, before opening the door to the shop.

The gruffly shopkeeper was found to be in a similar posture Ren last left him. Feet propped, eyes on a magazine. Only this time, there was a tense curl at the shopkeeper's lips.

"Yeah?" he prompted the two teenagers, a sharp edge to his voice.

Ren produced the Olympic gold medal from his pocket. The shopkeeper leant forward from the magazine, studying the precious metal.

"Will you buy this?" asked Ren.

The shopkeeper grabbed a loupe from the draw and inspected the medal closely with the magnifying glass. As he examined the medal, Ren noticed the shopkeeper's eyes kept darting between the precious metal and the door. Were those people outside spelling trouble?

"It is. . .real. Where did you steal this?" the shopkeeper asked bluntly.

"Excuse me. Steal? What kind of people do you think we are?" Shiori spluttered, in a tone so convincing, Ren almost forget about the theft at Kamoshida's Palace.

"Oh? So you actually competed in the Olympics and won a gold medal?" the shopkeeper asked, raising his eyebrow.

"We. . .found it," said Shiori.

"Sorry. This is a legitimate business. No transaction," said the shopkeeper.

Disappointment crossed Ren's face. He scooped up the medal, turning to the door. Through the door's translucent glass, Ren saw the two men were standing there. They appeared to be on the verge of entering.

"Wait," said the shopkeeper.

Ren turned back.

"I'll buy it for thirty thousand yen. No negotiation," said the shopkeeper.

"Alrigh-"

Shiori cut Ren off.

"Forty thousand yen," she said firmly.

The shopkeeper glared at her. Shiori smiled and shrugged.

"I'm sure the gentlemen outside would agree this is a legitimate business," she said in sarcasm.

"You've got a lot of nerve, kid. Fine-" the shopkeeper quickly bundled out wads of cash and stuffed them in a brown paperbag. To Ren's surprise, another wrapped package was stashed in with the money. What was that? The shopkeeper made meaningful eye-contact with both of them. Ren exchanged the medal for the paperbag. Just as they did, the door opened; entering the two men.

"Well well Munehisa Iwai. How's business? Still selling your 'hobby' products around here?"

"Business is fine. To what do I owe the pigs the pleasure of this visit?" replied Iwai, smiling easily.

 _They're the police_ , realised Ren.

A sweat broke out of the probation kid's temple. What was in the package Ren held, aside the money?

The civilian dressed policeman growled, jabbing a finger, "You know why we're here. The possession and selling of illegal firearms in Japan is heavily punished, you know? We're here to search the place and there's even a warrant here with us. You've been at this for so long, but now we know you slipped up."

Iwai played it unperturbed. He waved airily at the detective, reaching for his magazine.

"Yeah, sure. Make yourselves at home. There's nothing here," said Iwai.

The nonchalance unnerved the detectives.

"Huh? The tip-off we got should have been right," muttered the second detective.

"Hey, you kid. What was that he gave you in the package?!" one of the detectives demanded of Ren.

"Really now? You're gonna be harassing my customers too?" said Iwai.

"I wasn't asking you, Munehisa! Well? What's in the package?" the detective asked Ren.

Ren decided to get sleazy about this. He pulled out his smartphone.

"Huh? Hey! What are you doing?"

Ren pressed the record button.

"I'm sorry, officer could you repeat that question?" Ren raised his phone higher, getting a clear focus on the faces of the two detectives who were now being recorded. Shiori joined in on the shenanigan.

"I really don't like-" Shiori slowly began. Ren swung the phone to Shiori. "-how you two were checking me, a schoolgirl, out. Isn't that what pedos do?" suggested Shiori.

 _Holy shit, girl_ , Ren thought. No tactics were beneath her.

Iwai tutted loudly, joining in, "Now look what the pigs have done. Trying to intimidate children," he said loudly.

Ren adequately captured the entire exchange. He swung his phone back to the two detectives. They both looked very uncomfortable at the prospect of the media getting their hands on some controversial footage which would stain their careers. Ren felt a little bad about it but he could not afford to get busted here for something.

"Hmph. Fine. Be on your way," the detective said gruffly.

Ren and Shiori complied, uneasily leaving the shop. Ren did not stop the recording until they were out in the street. He released a long breath, pocketing his phone.

"Fast thinking," Shiori said approvingly.

"What was that all about? Is Iwai a yakuza or something? Did you just bully the yakuza into giving us more money?" asked Ren.

"He might be. I feel that he's not. What do you think is. . ." Shiori gestured to the paperbag.

Ren weighted the package on one hand. It felt heavy. What was in it?

"Not here. We'll check in. . ."

In Yongen-Jaya. As soon as they stepped onto the train platform, they both raced to Shiori's bedroom. From the paper bag, Ren picked out the bundles of forty-thousand yen. Shiori pocketed ten thousand yen for herself. Ren did not care. He was more interested in what was at the bottom of the paper bag. Ren carefully slid out the wrapped object. It felt hard and distinctly shaped.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Shiori asked.

"Are we even supposed to look?" said Ren, hesitating.

Shiori squinted her eyes. Ren sighed.

"Fine."

Ren unfurled the package, until they saw the dark piece of metal with a wooden grip. A handgun.

Shiori was astonished.

"Is that a Makarov?!" she asked.

Ren blinked several times at the gun. Makarov, AK47, Banana-Killer, whatever; Ren did not care about their names. Guns were guns to him. He swallowed. Ren carefully laid the pistol on the bed.

Morgana entered the room, jolly bouncing on his paws.

"Hey, you two. How's it – IS THAT A FUCKING GUN?!" Morgana yelped.

It relieved Ren that normal people did not understand the cat's meows.

"Shiori. You know I can't keep this. If Sojiro finds something like this in my room, he'll stick me in the blender and serve me as a curry ingredient," said Ren.

Shiori nodded.

"I'll err. . .there's a room where we keep old movie rolls. Nobody ever goes in there except me. I'll put it in an empty case projector. Until we can return this of course," said Shiori.

"All that's left now is the celebration, tomorrow," said Morgana.

* * *

A prestigious hotel in Shibuya hosted 'The Wilton Buffet', which turned out to be a lofty affair of dining. Entire tables stacked with categories of food, from soft sponge cakes of white glacial frosting, plumy plum and strawberry tarts, to heavily marinated sausages and steaks – cooked to degrees of bloody and well done. Cold fruit, both whole and manicurely sliced to different novelty shapes, patterned silver platters. The dizzying array of food watered Ren's mouth, reminding him that he had not eaten like this in a while.

It was not just the food that made an impression. As Ren looked around, the patrons appeared to be people from distinguished backgrounds and occupations. Ren overheard hot shot lawyers talking excitably of an expensive injunction they won; media directors saying the public prefers to hear about simplified sensationalised news - rather than the nuanced truth, etcetera. Snippets of chatter which gave away the premise of people's personal lives.

Ren also realised that he could have easily taken care of the expenses of this buffet with his own wallet. He had been so caught up in the excitement of the Phantom Thieves business, that he nearly forgot about who he really was. . .where he came from. Not that Ren was in a rush to tell the others about his parents and the kind of upbringing he had. The Amamiya's wealth was something he was a bit self-conscious of, preferring to not advertise at his sleeves. Especially after the consecutive nights of yelling he got, on bringing shame to the family's reputation.

The more Ren thought about home, the quieter he became, withdrawing into himself. The others remarked and marvelled over their helpings, as they chatted. Ryuji looked ready to die and go to heaven as he ate BBQ prepped pork. Shiori's watering eyes were out of focus, her mouth hanging - having mixed too much wasabi with the Kikkoman sauce she was having with the sashimi. Morgana was salivating in Ren's bag, at all the fish Ren had packed in takeaway for the cat.

Ann was the only one who noticed Ren getting quiet. _After_ she stuffed herself with sweet cake of course.

". . .next target. Ren? Heeeello? Earth to Ren?" said Ryuji, waving a hand in front of Ren's face.

Ren stirred from his mind. He held a cup of fresh blended coffee in proximity; wafting in the dusky thoughts and smoky smells of caffeine.

"Hmm?" said Ren.

"Morgana was telling me, Kamoshida ain't the only one with a Palace," said Ryuji.

Ren recalled the day of the volleyball rally, when he spoke to Igor. At least one more person at school had a Palace; if Igor's words were anything to go by.

"Yeah. That is true. If you increase the scope from Shujin to the entire world, there are no shortages of Palaces," said Ren.

"Then I was thinkin'. . .like the way we were able to fight for the volleyball team, when they couldn't. . .there must be plenty of victims like that in society too. People who are too downtrodden, incapacitated by the system or powerful folks. They can't stand up for themselves. But we can. For them," said Ryuji.

"I agree. You could use your powers to make people's lives better. Or at least, free them from tyrants like Kamoshida," said Morgana.

From the corner of Ren's eye, he caught Shiori smiling faintly. Both of them had anticipated this for weeks.

Ren sat down his coffee. He clasped his arms, looking down at the darkwood and glass table in front of him. The reflection of his eyes looked back up at him. Eyes that knew, Ren did not truly care about playing the hero.

"What do you think?" Shiori asked Ann.

"I get where Ryuji is coming from about being unable to fight back. I didn't fully understand what was happening to Shiho – but when I finally did, there was this moment of. . .helplessness. I didn't know what I could do. But then I met you guys-" Ann flexed her fingers, "-I met Carmen. Finally, I was able to fight for Shiho. Whenever I think of that moment of weakness, I hate it. Hate it so much that I want to become stronger so that it would never happen again."

Ann took a deep breath, then continued: ". . .I imagine there are such people who feel that powerlessness. From all walks of life."

"Then you also agree we should go after new targets?" asked Ren.

Ann was about to affirm, but then she hesitated. There was something about the way Ren asked the question that made her do a double-take. The obvious answer to say was 'Yes'. Yet. . .what was this weird feeling Ann was getting off Ren?

Ann's momentary pause in answering made Ren wonder if this girl just read his mind. No, that was silly. Not even Shiori knew about his fear,= - that this initiative could be the path to Ren's ruin. Nobody knew about Igor and the twins.

". . .yes," said Ann.

Ren slowly nodded.

"Shiori?" Ren prompted.

Shiori picked a cherry off the top of her dessert. Before popping it in her mouth, she said, "I'm fine with whatever. Besides, I don't think any of us were planning on leaving these Personas alone. Even if we don't go searching for new Palaces to raid, I intend to learn more about Yoshitsune in my own time."

Everyone looked at Ren expectantly. Ren's face was impassive to them. Ryuji was a bit surprised by the lack of excitement Ren was showing. He figured Ren would immediately jump at the idea – especially since he had been wronged by the system himself. Maybe Ren was being cautious?

"All right. We'll do this. But on one condition," said Ren.

"What?" asked Morgana.

"Nobody goes after any target, until everyone agrees on it. Even if there is a majority vote to steal an individual's heart; if even one of us doesn't want to steal the heart, the Phantom Thieves will not mobilise," said Ren.

"I like that idea," said Ann.

"I can roll with that," said Ryuji.

"Haha. I'm liking this team a lot," said Morgana.

"No problem," said Shiori.

Ren inwardly relaxed. Good. This would be insurance if he felt things were getting out of hand.

"Who would our next target be though?" asked Morgana.

"Erm. . .I dunno. Maybe one of those requests that are being posted on the Phantom Aficionado website?" said Ryuji.

"The what?" said Shiori.

Ryuji handed his phone to Shiori, which had a URL opened on the web browser.

"No way. We actually have a fan page already. 'Phan-Site'. Yuck. I dislike puns," said Shiori.

"Wasn't expecting this sort of thing," said Ren.

"I've seen that myself. People are already sending messages of support, as well as complaining about their problems. Like their grades need to pick up or wanting to win the lottery. As if we're genies! A few trolls too. But some of the requests seem genuine. People with problems that seem worth having a look at," said Ann.

Ren picked up his cup and took a sip. He felt indifferent to this Aficionado website.

"There are also famous people and politicians we can look at," suggested Shiori, her eyebrows tugging – which seemed suggestive to Ren that she hints of suspecting his own end-game as a Phantom Thief.

"Film and media has its own ecosystem of sexual predators and victims, I bet," said Morgana.

"Ah! We've got only fifteen minutes left and we haven't finished all these food," remarked Ann.

"Shit. You're right. I'm digging in right now," said Ryuji.

Ren looked at his own platter of food in front of him. He did not feel like eating anymore. For some reason, today's celebration did not uplift Ren. The others were felicitous; enthusiastic in trying out all these dishes.

"I'm heading to the washroom," said Ren.

It was a lie. He wanted to take a walk. Away from all this.

Ryuji made a half-unintelligible reply while chewing with his mouth full. Shiori was focused into dicing her steak. Ann paused from the cherries jubilee she was spooning.

"Okay," said Ann.

Ren carefully placed his bag on the couch, before stepping out the dining area. Ren settled his hands into his jacket's pockets, wishing he had brought his earphones with him today.

Ann took another bite from the jubilee then frowned to herself. She looked back up, her eyes following Ren. Isn't the restroom in the other direction? She wondered. What is he doing?

Ann slowly savoured the sweet cherry, a trickle of uncertainty coming in her. She probably was not going to get the opportunity to try out the remaining sweet delicacies Wilton had to offer - for at least years.

Ann set the dessert bowl down with a slight clatter. She quickly wiped her mouth with a napkin then got up from her seat.

"Where are you going?" asked Morgana.

"The ladies restroom," said Ann.

"You're not gonna finish your desserts?" asked Ryuji.

"I think. . .I'm full," said Ann.

* * *

A 'Maintenance – NO ENTRY' stand-sign was ignored at the doorway, leading to an outdoor terrace with recliners, a changing room and a donut-shaped swimming pool. Ren leaned by the glass railings, looking down at the buildings and billboard LED screens of Shibuya. Although mostly grey, Ren found the city's colour palette comforting, as if familiar to his mood. Even the sky agreed.

Ren dialled his father's number. The call went straight into voicemail. Must be busy, Ren thought. His father always was.

Ren pocketed his BlackBerry. He didn't know why he was being like this today. Ren was annoyed with himself. How could he feel lonely when he was surrounded by people back there?

"You know you shouldn't be here, right? I think this pool deck is reserved for one of the suites on this level," said someone.

Ren turned around to Ann. Those eyes were glacier blue today, thanks to the sun being cloud blotted.

"Are you a guest staying at the suite, Ms. Takamaki?" he asked.

Ann smiled. She joined him by the railings.

"Maybe someday I will. If I ever try to take my modelling career seriously," said Ann.

"You're a model?"

"Just small time. For the occasional monthly magazine here and there."

"That's neat," said Ren.

"Is it?"

"You don't like modelling?"

Ann sighed.

"I wonder if I still do. What about you? What ails the mysterious and quiet leader of the Phantom Thieves, Mr. Amamiya?"

Ren turned back to the city.

"Nothing," said Ren.

"You promised you wouldn't push me away," she pointed out.

"I'm not. This is just me, _backing away_ ," said Ren, suppressing a grin.

"Amateur wordplay-" Ann began coolly, "-does not get you out of this."

Amateur? He thought. This time Ren shifted until he was entirely facing her, while bracing on the rails.

"Yeah? So you're saying if I'm sad and blue, it is your business?" said Ren.

"Hmph! Of course," said Ann.

"Very well. I agree to those terms," said Ren.

That startled Ann. That easy?

"But. . .if I ever fall in love with you, it's none of your business. That's the trade-off," Ren added, his messy hair whipping in the altitude wind.

Ann was outraged. Her pretty eyes blinked rapid-fire at Ren, registering the audacity of his words.

"Excuse me? If you're in love with. . .me, it's. . .none of my business?" she asked - incredulous. The smug smirk on Ren's face made Ann want to throw him off the building.

"Exactly," he said in mock-pride.

Ann raised her chin at him, her chest heaving for a rant.

"You are a –" Ann stopped herself, realising what Ren just tried to do.

 _Ah shoot_ , thought Ren. She caught him.

"Looks like wordplay almost did get me out of that," said Ren.

Ann pushed Ren.

"Wha – hey!" said Ren.

"That's not fair, Ren. I'm going to push you into that swimming pool," said Ann.

"Why that would be a very savage thing for-"

Ann pushed him.

"Okay, I get it. You're mad-"

She pushed him again. Ren was starting to get annoyed.

"Ann. Don't-"

She pushed him. Ren was one push away from getting drenched in the water now.

"I said, don't do that-"

When Ann's hand came to for the final push, Ren anticipated it. He pulled her arm towards him. Ann gasped. She stumbled forward, but Ren caught her and held her close in his arm – her body pressing against his. His other hand lightly tugged Ann's hair from the neckline, drawing her glaring gaze up at him. Her cheeks turned carmine in the embrace.

"You done?" he said, his voice basso.

Despite himself, Ren felt his heart beating fast. This was the first time they were physically close to each other, like this. Ann's expression softened when she felt her own heartbeat against his. She pressed a hand on his chest, feeling it for a few seconds. Then looked up at him. Their faces were inches from each other.

Ann curved her hand over his collarbone. Ren stiffened, feeling her nails and soft hands graze his neck. Ann cupped him by the cheek. Ren's breathing became ragged.

"Hey! What are you kids doing here?! It's out of bounds!" someone shouted.

Ann pushed herself back, turned Ren's head to the side.

"Didn't back away there, did you?" tutted Ann, hoping she didn't sound as lightheaded as she felt.

Ren did not say anything. His chest was heaving. Even through the fringes of his hair, Ann could tell his pupils were dilated.

* * *

 _Next day. Recess time at Shujin_.

Makoto knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She entered the principal's office. The head of the school was at his desk, examining a report. Principal Kobayakawa did not look up at Makoto straight away.

Makoto clasped her hands, a bit nervous. Whenever she had been called here before, it would be an occasion of celebration or congratulations. For topping an exam. Or being successfully elected the school president. This time. . .this time Makoto had a feeling it was not anything like that.

Makoto waited. A page would rustle in turn. A robin would chirrup by the window. Minutes ticked by, which just further increased her nervousness and now, anxiety. Then, Kobayakawa lowered the document. He appraised Makoto. She finally blurted:

"You called for me, sir?"

"Yes. The matter is about Shujin's latest scandal. Suguru Kamoshida. I'm sure you would have heard of it by now. Everyone has. It's become a nation-wide gossip now," said Kobayakawa.

The principal sounded bitter. Usually he loved it when Shujin hogged the limelight, but this kind of attention was most inconvenient. Hysterical parents had been visiting all morning to yell at him and even the school board was pissed. Hypocrites. As if some of them did not know what Kamoshida was doing.

"Yes. I have," said Makoto.

"It is undeniable that Mr. Kamoshida has 'changed' in some way. Unnaturally so. I wish to have a grasp of the cause. The information would better equip me to handle the media and the police in the coming weeks," said Kobayakawa.

"Oh. . ."

"What I want from you, is to find out who may have caused this. Those calling cards that were posted have led me to suspect that it was one of our students. Maybe more than one. Who knows? You are to investigate with any means necessary. I've informed the administrative office that you are cleared to access any of student files, their bio-data, etcetera."

"Is it really okay for me to be privy to confidential data of my peers-"

"Like I said. _Any means necessary_. I will continue speaking to Mr. Kamoshida myself. Unless you find whoever did this, these irresponsible rumours will likely never die down."

 _Why is he acting like this? Surely a normal principal would be more concerned about the victims than why Kamoshida confessed?_ Makoto wondered.

"Don't you agree? You have been at the top of your class since day one. Your conduct is good and the teachers favour you. I could write you a recommendation for any college of your choosing, Makoto Niijima," said Kobayakawa.

"Th-thank you."

" _I want you to remember today. . .when I told you that you were an incompetent student council president - in watching out for your peers," said Shiori._

Makoto hesitated. To do this. . .snooping and investigating her schoolmates like they were the bad guys, and not Kamoshida. But that college recommendation letter would help her so much.

The principal noticed the Makoto's troubled expression. He inwardly sighed. Another dense skank. Know when to take an opportunity, he thought. Maybe she needed spurring. Kobayakawa continued:

"Your lineage must certainly play a part in this excellence. Your sister is still young, yet she holds an admirable position at the Public Prosecutors Office, no. . .? She must have fulfilled _everything that was asked of her_ ," Kobayakawa paused, letting the words hang. Makoto's face went pale.

 _What are you. . .?_

"If something disappointing were to happen here, that wouldn't reflect very well on your sister. . ." said Kobayakawa.

". . ."

"Have I imperatively made myself clear?" the principal asked coldly.

"Yes."

Makoto's voice was almost a whisper.

"How wise. It's no wonder you're our student council president. I'd appreciate if you looked into this as soon as possible. Begin at once," said Kobayakawa.

Makoto did not even ask to be excused. She hurriedly left the principal's office, swallowing a lump in her throat.

* * *

 _After classes.  
_

Shiori re-checked the messages on her phone. She braced her free arm on her waist, feeling impatient.

_Nakata: Meet me at the school courtyard. _

_Shiori: Why? _

_Nakata: Just do it. _

"Hey Shiori."

Shiori rounded on her heels. There was Nakata.

"You know, if you're going to confess to me Nakata, an email would have sufficed. You made me wait," Shiori half-lamented.

"I prefer men," Nakata replied, unironically.

". . .I know that. I was. . ." Shiori trailed off when Nakata's face grew puzzled. Of course, how could Shiori forget his 24/7 serious attitude. This guy wouldn't know a tease even if it hit him like a bullet train.

". . .what is this about, Nakata-san?" sighed Shiori.

Nakata pulled out a red file from his bag and proffered it to Shiori. She frowned at the file.

"What is this?"

"Incriminating evidence of correspondence between the Principal Kobayakawa and Kamoshida. And more. Relating to the volleyball abuses," said Nakata.

Shiori's eyes widened. She took the file and flipped through it.

Holy moly. It was all here. Emails. Letters between the principal and parents. Receipts of medical supplies to keep up with the injuries of the volleyball team. Gag orders against doctors, when they had to treat a player whenever Kamoshida 'accidentally' took it too far.

"This. . .this wouldn't just get the principal in trouble. Where did you find this?" Shiori asked, shocked.

Nakata looked miserable.

"It was right there, Shiori. Under our noses this whole time. You were right when you told off Makoto that day. . .we failed the school," Nakata said - miserable.

"But where did you find this?!"

"The school servers. Before the year started, they overhauled the entire system to have everything connected. So basically, all channels of communications are linked up. From the admin office, to the school council, where we could send requests electronically, for stuff like ordering items for school activities. . .like more ink for the manga club or something. Everything was linked. Turns out, the I.T guy screwed up the privilege access for indexing archived receipts. I was checking on overdue orders for the upcoming Culture Festival. First saw the medical ones you're seeing there. . .then I clicked on a portal from there. . .which opened the floodgates," said Nakata.

Shiori's jaw was dropped.

 _This whole time. . .we could have gotten Kamoshida arrested with this. . ._ Thought Shiori.

Shiori's hands shook. She screwed up. Again.

"What's wrong?" Nakata asked.

"This! This right here! I could have. . ." Shiori looked distraught, ". . .I could have stumbled on this evidence, had I swallowed my pride around Makoto. If I hadn't quit the council. . ."

"Shiori, this is less your fault than it is ours. We were the regulars on the council, Niijima was the acting president-"

"You think I hold myself to the same standards as that selfish cunt?!" snapped Shiori.

Nakata recoiled, looking hurt.

Shiori closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in. Then out.

"Sorry. That was uncalled for. It's just. . .if I had found this before Kamoshida raped Shiho. . .bugger me!" she cursed so loudly, a few curious heads stuck out from classroom windows.

Nakata looked forlorn.

"I also wish I did. I should have believed you then, Shiori," he said, looking deflated.

"Why are you showing me this?" asked Shiori.

Nakata shook his head.

"Not showing. I'm giving it to you. There's also a microSD card in there, backing up the records. You're right. Not only the principal could get in trouble for all that. I think you're the only one in this school that deserves to hold these power cards. You were one of the few who tried to stand up to Kamoshida. You and that Ren Amamiya guy, right? Protect him with this. The principal is out for blood. . .I believe the students of Shujin are not fully safe yet. Kobayakawa is just as guilty as Kamoshida," said Nakata.

"Then why not give this to a teacher? Or Makoto? She's in an official leadership position that can do more. I'm a nobody," said Shiori.

Nakata hesitated. He glanced around to make sure nobody was in eavesdrop.

"I. . .have lost confidence in Niijima. As well as the teachers. Even in myself. No. This dossier is for you," said Nakata.

Before Shiori could get another word in, Nakata hurriedly left her, his head drooped. The guy looked legitimately disappointed in himself.

* * *

Ren was waiting for Shiori, at Shujin's entrance – when someone got in his face.

"What are you doing?" asked Ren.

"That. . .that was you wasn't it? Those calling cards were sent by you," whispered Mishima.

The class representative of 2-D was standing uncomfortably close to Ren. Dude smelt like chocolate milk for some reason.

"Give me some space," said Ren.

"Ah! Sorry! Look. . ." Mishima paused, looking around, ". . .I just came here to say thanks for bringing Kamoshida down. It really. . .really means a lot to me. I was unable to do anything about him. But you. . .you did it. You really are a Phantom Thief," said Mishima.

 _Oh crap_ , thought Ren.

Ren cleared his throat.

"Phantom Thief, huh? I think you're jumping the gun here, Mishima-"

"Yeah yeah. I know. This has got to be a secret, wink wink nudge nudge. Don't worry, I don't intend to tell anyone. In fact, I'm going to do my best to support you in the shadows, with the Phan-site," said Mishima.

"You made that?" asked Ren; this was an unexpected development.

"Yeah. I'm the admin of the place and everything. We will all be supporting you from there. I look forward to seeing what's next for the Thieves," said Mishima, giving a slight bow.

Shiori joined Ren a few minutes later. By then, Mishima was gone.

"You wouldn't believe what I just found out," said Shiori.

"Mishima also told you he made the Phan-Site?"

"Eh?"

* * *

Streetlights. A preschool. An almost quiet night. The street's atmosphere was robbed of its 2 AM somnolence when a group of high school students got fucked up on pills. They giggled, kicked trashed bins, snogged, jeered and shouted in glee.

"Hey Kofuki, where did you get the shit?!"

"Man who cares! This is great!"

"I got it off one of Kaneshiro's pushers. After I asked 'politely' of course, tee hee!" said Kofuki.

"Ayy, you guys wanna go to school?!"

The teenagers laughed and climbed the low fence to the preschool. Kofuki's peers cheered and teased when some of the guys awkwardly landed face-first in their delirium, or when the gang got a peek of a girl's panties.

Kofuki accidentally scraped by a sharp bit of the fence, tearing off the badge from her school uniform blouse. She barely noticed this; lumbering on with her friends to the playground. Some of the boys jumped on the tiny swings, causing them to break.

"Ooof! You guys look stupid!"

"Hey guys! Look what I found. It's a fucking pussy cat!"

The rest of the gang huddled to a white cat which recoiled from the rowdy teenagers. It hissed and tried to scratch at the teens, when some of them flicked its ears or poked it painfully.

"Huh? Why is it's tummy big?"

"Because it's pregnant, stoooopid!"

"OOOHHH."

Kofuki snickered when one of the boys kicked the cat, causing her to yowl.

"Hahahaha. I think you hurt it, bruh!"

"Wait wait. Stop," said Kofuki.

Everyone looked at her. Kofuki flipped her fringe in pointing to a stationary metal pole with a ball hanging from it. Her eyes were completely bloodshot and crazed.

"I got an idea. You see that tetherball over there? Let's tie it by the neck and we'll play!" exclaimed Kofuki.

The cat spewed and scratched as one of the guys forcibly picked her up. Another helped tie the knot, fixating it painfully tight on her neck. The cat stopped hissing and began to make a half-gurgling noise, asphyxiated by the knot and being suspended in her maternity weight.

The teens began to 'play tetherball'. Slapping the cat. Sometimes kneeing it. From a distance, they would have looked like dark dancing phantasms, celebrating over something. But, nobody was there to observe.

One of the students, Kofuki was not sure who – thwacked the cat harder than the previous times. The struggling cat swung in a sharp jut. There was an audible _snap_. The cat became still.

"What the fuck? Did we break it?"

"Boo! You snapped her neck, Tanaka."

"I did that?"

"Man whatever. I'm already bored. Let's get outta here."

The school kids left the cat hanging there, in the preschool playground. Maybe they were not a group of high school students who got fucked up on pills. Maybe they were a group of already fucked up teenagers, who just did drugs.

Morning came. The first to discover the corpse were two four-year-olds. A scream followed. Teachers came running to see what happened. The police were called.

A fabric school badge was discovered by the school gardener. The old man plucked it from the fence and examined the badge. He read the sewn name: _Kosei High School_.

* * *

 **Not gonna lie. That final part of CH19 was really discomforting to write (understatement). I never thought I could be affected by my own words, to such a degree.  
**

 **I know some of yous are clamouring for Yusuke's debut. Don't worry, it will come. Just like the slow burn in building up to Ann's proper inclusion in the story, the same will be done for Yusuke.**


	20. Koi no Yokan

.

Morgana gasped. His ears twinged at the howling tunnel wind inside Tokyo metro.

"Hello?" he called out.

Rumblings. Shudders on dimming lights. The ground vibrated and a poof of dust fell from the dark ceiling. A train bulleted past – lining luminance of red. Morgana shook his head, trying to get off some of the dust. He tried to make out the people inside the train. Dark figures. Faceless figures.

When the train was gone, there was someone standing on the other side of the platform. It was too dark for even Morgana's cat vision to make out who it was. Or what it was, if such was the supposition.

Morgana crouched on all fours. His snout sniffed, trying to get a feel. Everyone had their common scents. Shiori smelt like effervescent cola. Ann smelt like citrus. Ren smelt like coffee. Ryuji was an instant ramen. But this individual. . .

"W-who are you?" Morgana called out.

. . .smelt like nothing. That was impossible. People always smelt like something.

" _Morgana. . ._ " it spoke.

The hairs on Morgana's pelt raised. There was nothing about the voice that was monstrous, guttural or raspy, as most horror clichés would have. In fact, the voice sounded very human. A woman's voice. Her articulation struck a chord in Morgana's misty memories.

"Do I know you? Are you from my past?" Morgana asked.

Huh? She was no longer on the other side. How did she just disappear-?

A pair of hands pushed Morgana from behind, throwing him onto the train tracks. From the dark tunnel, the headlights of a train approached. A horn blared.

"Wah!"

" _End him._ "

Morgana raised himself, wincing from the cold-biting metal of the rails. He looked up confused and realised it was the same woman from earlier; she pushed him! His eyes barely registered on her face before the high-speed train struck Morgana.

#

"YAAAH!"

Morgana leapt out of his cat bed, screaming and rolling in a fright. Instead of seeing the dark corners of Mementos, it was an attic's ceiling.

 _Oh shit! Oh shit!. . .Whew. It was just a nightmare_ , thought Morgana, panting heavily.

There was a _thump_ on the wooden floor, followed by a grunt.

The light switched on. Morgana craned his head. A wild messy-haired Shiori stood, clutching a can of hairspray like a club. Behind her profile was the poster of Vergil from _Devil May Cry 3_.

Shiori blinked several times at Morgana.

"What happened?" she croaked.

"Bad dream," Morgana said meekly.

Shiori's arms dropped. She looked at the bedside clock. The green digital dial read 2:12 AM.

"Sorry," said Morgana, a little gaspy.

Shiori noticed Morgana's voice was pretty shaken. Must have been some dream.

"C'mon. You can sleep with me tonight. Jump on," she said.

"You. . .sure?"

 _As long as grandma doesn't catch me trying to get all that cat shedding out of my sheets_ , thought Shiori.

Shiori sat on her bed.

"It's fine. Here, I think my Totoro plushie will like you," said Shiori.

"Thank you."

Morgana bounded onto Shiori's bed and curled into a catloaf, next to the grey plushie. Within minutes, the anxious expression on Morgana's face faded into an undisturbed sleep. Shiori watched him for a few minutes then flicked off the light.

Shiori fell back on her pillow, not sure if she could fall asleep as fast as Morgana just did. Shiori unlocked her phone, idly opening up Twitter. Someone wrote a 'Retweet if you…" sentiment here, some recreational outrage there, news that DMC V was going to have microtransactions ( _Wowzer_ , thought Shiori), a new popular meme there - something about a 'Bongo Cat'. Shiori closed the social media app and opened the IM app. Message conversations with the Phantom Thieves and others.

Reading the words from Ryuji and the others, Shiori found herself thinking she did not feel close to these people, despite the ease at which she interacted with them and vice versa. Even with Ann (whom Shiori could tell had reservations about her and Ren); both girls knew they liked each other as friends.

 _It's like. . .I was never supposed to be a part of this picture. This story. I'm the outsider_ , thought Shiori.

The thought did not sadden or frustrate her. She felt nothing, except the indifferent realisation of this. Maybe in an alternate universe, Shiori Oshiro died in a mental shutdown and it was just these four, forming the Phantom Thieves. Her finger scrolled down the chat and paused. Ren's message. He always said the least in the group chat.

Ah. . .ha. Maybe she was not inwardly distant to everyone. Ren understood her. She liked how he knew how to tempt her puppet strings, like at the Leblanc the other night.

 _Do you see Ren, or do you see Takumi?_ Came a thought.

No internal monologue followed that question. Shiori tapped the standby button and set her phone on the side-table. She closed her eyes.

* * *

 _Next morning_.

Shiori hugged her schoolbag, trying not to suffocate in the tightly packed train carriage. In her view-sight, she could see Ren was just as cramped, only he was trying not to nod off to sleep. Occasionally, the carriage would accidentally rock a hard, making Ren's head knock against the side panel wall, which would wake him up. This made Shiori giggle.

". . . _this morning's news update. After the resignation of the Transport Minister, no mental shutdowns have derailed the running of Tokyo's metro system. This has relieving allowed no delays to be made to the train schedules this week."_

"That's good," came Morgana's muffled voice in Ren's bag.

 _Shutdowns. . ._ thought Ren.

He imagined what it would be like if their train conductor shut down here. The abrupt tearing of metal. Lights going out. The carriage flipping, people being torqued in this tightly packed compartment, like ingredients spinning in a blender – necks and limbs crushing and twisting. . .

Ren wondered if he could escape death via the metaverse in such a situation.

". . . _Shujin Academy continues to deny knowledge of the abuses its volleyball team members went through_ , _citing they left the teaching methods to the discretion of its staff. . ._ "

His eyebrow arched.

They were still on that? Ren supposed it was to be expected. He had weeks to get used to Kamoshida's cruelty, whereas the nation was still reeling from the revelation of the ex-Olympian's wrongdoings.

". . . _Shujin is not the only school to have a scandal. The students of Kosei High School are currently under investigation after a gruelling sight of animal abuse was discovered in. . ._ "

Ren grimaced on hearing the details of this piece of news. Humans could be so wicked.

". . . _the opening of next week's art exhibition has become one of Tokyo's latest hotspots, with the Madarame Exhibit opening next week. . ._ "

* * *

Principal Kobayakawa was watching a cooking channel on his office PC, when the phone call rang.

 _It better not be another one of those pesky reporters_ , thought Kobayakawa.

"Hello. Principal Kobayakawa speaking-" he froze in mid-speech.

". . .I. . .yes, I'm here, sir," said Kobayakawa.

He muted his PC and grabbed his handkerchief, dabbing at his forehead.

". . .regarding the incident with Kamoshida, I already have someone looking into it. Yes. . .I am confident we will be able to find the perpetrators. . .no! No! Not at all! I am very sorry that this happened, believe me!"

Someone knocked at Kobayakawa's door. It was his secretary. Kobayakawa angrily waved her off. What a scuzz. This was not a good time, thought the principal.

". . .yes. But I'm sure our lawyers are doing their best to handle the lawsuits – No. I'm sorry, sir. I spoke out of turn. Yes. . ."

Kobayakawa gulped, his gelatinlike chins quivering.

" _Do not forget who put you in that office. If it weren't for us, you would be a nobody_ ," said the other voice on the line.

"Yes sir," breathed Kobayakawa, feeling like he was short on air.

The line clicked dead.

It took Kobayakawa three attempts to put the phone receiver back on the telephone properly. His pudgy hands shook. Kobayakawa opened his desk drawer, scrummaging for aspirin.

 _This will all work out. Niijima has to find the culprit. Or I'll deal with her myself!_ Thought Kobayakawa.

* * *

During Japanese class, Kawakami was teaching historical literature. Ren was braced on his desk, staring outside the window. Occasionally his eyes would flick to Ann - sitting in front of him. Ren could not help it now, but the back sight of Ann sitting was almost perfectly memorised by him now.

 _Like how her hair parting line zig-zags to the crown of her head. . ._

". . .turning to page 70. Today we'll be covering 'The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter'. Scholars have theorised it is the oldest extant Japanese prose fiction; some even consider it to be the world's oldest science-fiction story," said Kawakami.

Their teacher paused. Unnoticed by Ren, Kawakami took notice to him.

 _This scent Ann wears. . .old school Hollywood cinema of citrus, sweet and spice, is that Liberté Cacherel?_ wondered Ren.

"Although if you ask me, it's the oldest story about a terrible woman. . .from Japan at least. I mean, Princess Kaguya gives her suitors absurd tasks, demands fancy gifts, then runs off to the moon! Some men lose their fortunes, some are humiliated, and some even get serious wounds or go blind. Mind you, women like Princess Kaguya also show up in a lot of stories, from other parts of the world. Now then, Ren-kun-"

Ren's head snapped to the classroom front. He straightened in his seat.

"-what do people generally call a woman, who has a charm that sometimes leads men to their doom?"

Ren cleared his throat.

"Femme fatale," said Ren.

"That's correct. Literally translated, 'femme fatale' means 'fatal woman'. Famous examples are the witch, Morgan le Fay from the Arthurian legends. . .and Queen Salome from the Bible. Not to mention Georges Bizet's muse. The wild, seductive dancer of the opera, Carmen."

Ann shifted on her seat at the innocent shout-out. Ren suppressed a knowing smile.

"Also, I hope you're all amply prepared for your exams this upcoming Wednesday -what? Don't tell me you forgot?" Kawakami asked, at the uneasy looks and groans from some of the students.

". . .let me just warn you that exams aren't so easy that you can pass them with a single night of cramming. Take your time and make sure you understand the material, OK?"

"Think you'll be alright in the tests?" asked Morgana.

Ren shrugged. He was a top twenty-five scorer at his last school. That was good enough for him.

* * *

 _After school._

On his phone, Ryuji thumb-flicked to a different post on the Aficionado website.

"None of these posts are any good. Everyone's just bitchin' about their parents or their boyfriends. There ain't even a hint of a hint about a new Palace. . ." complained Ryuji.

The gang were on the school rooftop, convened for a meeting on their next target. The warm afternoon sky shaded the rooftop in shadows and soft colours. Ren could distinctly smell mint from the plots of vegetation someone was growing here. That mint was mixed with citrus thanks to Ann choosing to sit near to where he leaned.

Shiori sat on a desk, rubbing Morgana's belly, who was wiggling and purring.

"That site chafes me. Do we really need it for this Phantom Thieves business?" asked Shiori.

"It's a decent platform for people to anonymously speak to us. What's the alternative? I just wish they included a location and full name in their posts," said Ryuji.

"It might be too much to expect a name and location from online. After all, the school doesn't know how we pulled off 'stealing Kamoshida's heart'. People don't know the Phantom Thieves' methods," said Ann.

"Are there only Shujin students posting there?" asked Ren.

"I figure, nah. Some of these posts giveaway adult lives. There's this one poster who is obsessed with UFOs and thinks we're Martians -" Ryuji sighed, "-we might have to find the next Palace in our own time."

"Finding a target the police have overlooked. . .that is going to take some serious sleuthing," said Morgana.

"Heh. You have a point. We should prolly' hold off 'til exams are over. I don't wanna be mind-fucked about the social science and comin' up empty-handed at the same time," said Ryuji.

There was a click from the rooftop door access.

"Yikes!" said Morgana; the cat quickly bounded out of sight.

Everyone froze. Who was at the door?

It swung open. Shiori got to her feet, slowly turning like a hanged man kicked from the side. Ren saw her shoulders tense up.

"Oh. . ." said Ann.

Makoto Niijima noted all the present members. Good. Everyone here matched up with the prototype criteria for the suspects Principal Kobayakawa was after.

"This place is off-limits you know," said Makoto.

Ryuji glowered.

"We'll get outta here, once we're done chattin'. Although I wonder, what Miss Student Council President wants with us," said Ryuji.

Makoto brushed her wind-swept bangs.

"What do I want with you four? The troublemaker-"

Ryuji frowned.

"-the girl of rumour-"

A flash of hurt showed in Ann's eyes, followed by anger.

"-the recently terminated student council member-"

Shiori raised 'So-what?' eyebrows.

"-and. . .the infamous transfer student. Interesting combination," said Makoto.

Ren kept deadpan. Any warmth Makoto had for him the day she apologised, was replaced by a coolly distant tone. What was going on? Ren wondered.

"Great way to start a conversation," Ann said acidly.

"What do you want, Niijima?" Shiori asked coldly.

Shiori had a sinking feeling what this might be about. Nakata hinted as much, after handing Shiori the red dossier. Makoto considered Shiori, trying not to curl her mouth in disdain.

 _Let's try to keep this professional_ , thought Makoto.

"Let's start with him," said Makoto, nodding to Ren.

"It seemed you got to know Kamoshida pretty well," said Makoto.

Everyone except Ren lost the colour in their faces. Did Makoto suspect they had something to do with Kamoshida's change of heart?

"Better than you did, unfortunately. As did everyone else," said Ren.

Ren held himself aloof. Beneath his composure however, Ren's mind was racing, weighing how much Makoto could possibly know. The honours student was closely watching his body language, giving a radiated sense of a microscope observing a bug. Ren knew there was no use denying his acquaintance with Kamoshida. The whole school had gossiped about him pissing off Kamoshida.

Ren's indirect insult earned a moment of irritation in Makoto's eyes, before it wiped away.

"Hm. Perhaps. I heard Mr. Kamoshida used a volleyball team member to spread details of your past record. Doesn't that make you hate him? Mr. Kamoshida, I mean," said Makoto.

For a fraction of a second, Ren's jaw tensed up.

 _Hate? You're asking me if I hate someone who raped Shiho and hurt the people I've come to care for?_ Thought Ren.

"What's all this about? If you're trying to imply something, I'll have you know my friend here is an upstanding guy," said Ryuji.

"I don't mean to offend. Many students have been shaken up by what happened with Mr. Kamoshida. The rumours about that odd, card calling-esque posting aren't going away either," said Makoto.

Ann exchanged glanced at the others. Ryuji seemed perplexed. Ren showed nothing, but stolid indifference. Shiori was _almost_ unreadable. Beneath the strained impassiveness, Ann sensed her sharp-tongued friend was wary of Makoto.

 _Does Shiori know the underbelly of this situation?_ Ann wondered.

Regardless, Makoto needed to be deflected from prying into their affairs.

"I didn't expect someone like you would care about that tactless stuff, Niijima-senpai," Ann said cattily.

Makoto crossed her arms. She was starting to show impatience.

"At least try to understand my position. Being forced to deal with this horseplay. . ." seethed Makoto.

Shiori coughed, trying to contain a laugh. Unsuccessfully.

"Something's funny?" Makoto asked Shiori, her tone darkening by the second.

". . .yes. It's just. . ." Shiori paused, ". . . _Being forced to deal with this horseplay._ I mean, really? Really, Niijima? People were emotionally and physically abused by Kamoshida, and when you finally get yourself involved, hounding our asses like this, you feel sorry for yourself for being involved in this 'horseplay'? Like wow. You are - the only snoot I know who has the audacity to think only of herself in this situation - after everything that has happened," said Shiori.

Ann's mouth formed in a surprise-O. Ryuji had told her that Shiori hated Makoto but Ann had not anticipated Shiori to be this confrontational with the president.

The daggers that came out of Makoto's eyes made Ryuji flinch.

"Besmirch me if you will, Oshiro. You know nothing of what's going on in the background," Makoto hiss-whispered.

" _Yeah?_ I reckon I've got a good guess. The student council doesn't know why you're here, do they?" said Shiori.

Makoto thought Shiori was going to be I-told-you-so in her face about Kamoshida and had prepared an armament of words, in case that came up in the conversation.

But Shiori knew her too well – she was not going to bite the easy bait. Instead, this bitch was issuing an intimation threat; revealing to the council that the principal put Makoto up to dodgy business.

That was taking it too far. For Kobayakawa, who wanted this confidential, and for Makoto herself, as that would be another hit on the confidence of her leadership. Shiori was making it too personal for Makoto and it made her mad.

"Don't bring the council into this! All you ever did was leech off anything that would make you look good. First being elected. Then screwing a basketball captain for bragging points! I see you've graduated to trying to fuck a two hundred-million-dollar trust fund boy. Do tell, is there some. . .Sluts World Cup you're competing in, that's got you like this?" said Makoto, clucking her tongue in mock-disapproval.

Trust fund-kid? Shiori thought confused.

"What are you talking about? What rich guy?" asked Shiori.

Makoto looked past Shiori. The gang's eyes widened; Ryuji, Ann and Shiori looked back at Ren, who refused eye-contact. Ryuji gaped at Ren.

"You never told us you're from a bloody rich background!" exclaimed Ryuji.

"I'm not that rich, Ryuji-"

"Dude! Two-hundred million!"

". . ."

"Ah yes, by the way. It's been decided by me, that this place will be closed off due to the incident. After all, I heard some people were coming up here without permission," said Makoto; she turned away from them.

Makoto brushed her side bang back, adding, "I'm sorry to have interrupted you all."

 _Except you, Shiori. Go fuck yourself_ , thought Makoto.

Makoto left the school rooftop.

Ann stood up, staring after the closed door.

"What was that about?" asked Ann.

"What are you all about?" Ryuji asked Ren.

Ren rolled his eyes at him.

Morgana leapt down from a ventilation unit.

"That girl. . .she seems rather sharp," said Morgana.

"Tch!"

Shiori kicked a desk down.

"Whoa. . .chill out there. You OK?" asked Ryuji.

"Chill out? Hahaha! I'M VERY CHILL, RYUJI!" shouted Shiori.

 _She's so not chilled,_ thought Ren.

"Look, I get it, aite? She pisses me off too," said Ryuji.

"Don't get baited by her. She wants us to be angry. Makes it easier to have a slip-of-tongue or do something we might regret," warned Ren.

Shiori huffed.

"That's not the main problem here," said Shiori.

"What is?" asked Ann.

"How did Makoto know about Ren's family? Think about that," said Shiori.

Ryuji scratched his head.

"I dunno. How would she?" he asked.

". . .the student profile data, Shujin administration keeps," said Ann.

Shiori snapped her fingers, pointing at Ann.

"That! You know what this means? Principal Kobayakawa is also involved in this. He is the only person in the Shujin who could have granted Makoto that kind of privilege. That greaseball wants to know who blew the lid off his school," said Shiori.

"In other words, he's looking for the Phantom Thieves. Us," said Morgana.

"W-what are we going to do about that?" asked Ryuji.

Ren and Shiori made eye-contact. Silent communication. Ann tore her gaze from them, looking down at her feet. A twinge of jealousy sprung in her chest. Maybe it was a bit lame, but Ann wished she was close to Ren like that. It did not help with Makoto's misunderstanding earlier, about Shiori wanting to sleep with Ren. That was a misunderstanding, right? Ann thought.

"Don't worry about the principal. This will be taken care of," said Ren.

"That reminds me. Study hard, everyone. Especially you, Ryuji. There are bound to be traps that will need to be solved with brains. The daily lives you lead, the bonds you form, will impact your abilities in the metaverse," said Morgana.

"I guess you have a point-" Ryuji conceded, sounding unenthusiastic, "-it's just so lame. I was all fired up with helping people, not preparing for exams."

"Well. . .I do have somewhere interesting to show you beforehand. You guys remember your promise to help get back my memories, right? Follow me," said Morgana.

* * *

The fellowship took the gang all the way to the Railway Square, in Shibuya.

"What're you bringin' us here for?" Ryuji asked, lightly waving the phone in his hand.

"Just do as I told you," said Morgana.

The others had their own devices out, hovering around Morgana and Ryuji. On screens, the Phantom Thief Aficionado website was open.

"All right. I've got the forum open. Now what?" asked Ryuji.

"Look for a post with a full name on it," said Morgana.

Ryuji shook his head in impatience.

"I already said, there's no info on any big shots. . .but man, people actually go put someone's real name here. Some scary doxxing shit," said Ryuji.

"' _He won't listen to what I say_ ,' no wait, there's no name on this one," said Ann.

"' _My brother farted on my face while I was asleep_ ,' oh – eww! Anon did write his brother's name," said Shiori.

"' _Someone's trolling me on Discord_ ,' . . .this one's got a name," said Ryuji.

Morgana sighed.

"Ignore those. Aren't there any posts about more serious trouble? Like an actual arsehole?" said Morgana.

"I don't know, dude. That one did break wind on someone's face. . ."

"Very funny, Ren," said Morgana, rolling his eyes.

"' _I don't know what to do about my ex who is stalking me. His name is Natsuhiko Nakanohara_.' It says he's a teller at City Hall," said Ann.

"A government worker stalking someone. . ." muttered Ryuji.

"Good target?" prompted Shiori.

"That should be a suitable target. All right, now get the Meta-Nav ready," said Morgana.

"We get to jump right into a Palace? Fine by me!" said Ryuji, his heels bouncing.

Ann's nose scrunched.

"Hey! What happened to the talk of 'unanimous decision'? What do you think we should do, Ren? Shiori?" asked Ann.

Shiori smacked palm against fist.

"Morgana clearly wants to show us something. Time to kick Shadow ass."

"That's what I'm talking about!" said Ryuji.

"Ren?" said Ann.

". . .let's go."

"OK then. Let's do this," said Ann.

"We need a name and a place, right? So the name is. . ." Ryuji typed 'Natsuhiro Nakanohara' into the Meta-Nav.

"Actually, we don't need a Palace name this time. Just enter exactly what I say. The keyword is. . .'Mementos'," said Morgana.

"Eh? What are you trying to pull?" questioned Ryuji.

"Just listen to me! It _should_ work. I. . .think. . ." said Morgana.

"Geez. That uncertainty again? Uhh…'M-e-m-e-n-t-o-s,' was it?" Ryuji typed the word in.

" _Candidate found_ ," said the Meta-Nav.

"We got a hit?!" exclaimed Ryuji.

"Huh. It worked," said Shiori.

"Hee-hee. Just as I thought," said Morgana.

Ren's surrounding slowed then drew to still frames. The air shimmered before the fabric of reality began to warp and twist. Black and red flecked his vision as the world reformed. Ren blinked. Railway Square was empty. Ren dropped his bag and walked to the middle of the pathway, peering about. No commuters were here. At least his (very surprised) friends were still here.

Ren tilted his head to Buchiko dog statue. Earlier on, children were reaching at it, with their parents taking photos. Now the statue was alone. The lottery stand was unattended. No cars ran on the road. The sky was a strange colour too. And the ground he walked on. . .

Ann tapped her shoes on the pavement.

"It. . .kind of feels like I'm standing on air. . .?" remarked Ann.

Ryuji let out a shaky laugh. He seemed both excited and a bit freaked out.

"Is this. . .is this supposed to be that Nakanohara guy's Palace?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori affixed her chin on hand; thinking poise.

"If it is. . .it seems generic on the surface compared to Kamoshida's. At least the Castle of Lust had some style to it," said Shiori.

"This place is still weird though," said Ann.

"Half right, half wrong. This is a type of 'Palace', but it's different from a normal one - like Kamoshida's. Come on, let's head down. The Shadows here lurk underground," said Morgana.

The gang followed Morgana down the stairway and escalators, which were supposed to take them to Tokyo's underground metro. What they found, was not quite the same as real life.

"Bruh," was all Ryuji could say.

Bruh indeed, thought Shiori.

Almost everything was dark. The lights had gone from bright white to a low red tint. Shiori neared an advertisement panel. It was showing static like those old analogue TVs with no reception. On the corner edges of the panel was this creepy red and black gunk, which cobwebbed and plastered on the floor and walls. Shiori dared not to touch it.

A distorted noise emitted. Along the dark walls, there was a phantom image of. . .

 _Hang on a second_ , thought Shiori. That was the current season of Studio Trigger's latest anime. The pink-haired heroine from the anime spoke. Her words were distinct, but her tone was oddly garbled, as if thousands of people differently interpreted her voice and some audio recording tried to accommodate all that. The wavy image changed. This time - into a meme. It was Bongo Cat! Shiori's jaw dropped. Memes!? There were memes in the metaverse?!

There were other examples littered here and there. Few did not have visual cues, but just auditory, like schizophrenic whispers about trends, politics and pop culture. Shiori hugged herself, recoiling from some of the airy echoes. Some of these sentiments held so much anger and toxicity.

A train blew past by, setting the girls' hair in a wind sweep. Shiori caught sight of dark silhouettes against red, inside the carriages.

"Are those actual people in the train – wait. Our clothes have changed!" said Skull.

Everyone was in their Phantom Thief garb.

"The Shadows know we're here?" asked Panther.

"Since the moment we've stepped in. This is their domain. For good reason too. This place is about all the repressive thoughts, emotions and identities that are hidden from society. Poetically, the manifestation of all that and the Shadows, hide in Tokyo's underground. Away from the world. You could say this is Japan's true collective consciousness," said Mona.

"But you also said this was a Palace," Comedienne said slowly.

Mona nodded.

"I did. You could consider Mementos to be. . .everyone's Palace. It's unlike Kamoshida's castle too. A Palace as grand as that one only takes form when a person's distorted wishes have reached extreme realms. Since not everyone is as nuts as Kamoshida was, we have voilà, Mementos," said Mona.

"That explains these weird mirages around here," said Joker.

"So what you're saying Mona. . .using this place, we can even change the hearts of those who do not have Palaces?" asked Panther.

"Yes. That is correct. The steps to changing hearts here, are different. Easier. All we need to do is find the target and defeat it," said Mona.

Joker jumped down from the train platform and pendulum-kicked the railway track. A sound reaction thrummed back from the rail, like a guitar string twanged. The emanation of the vibration travelled from where Joker's foot struck, further along the path. Joker's gaze followed. The railway went on. . .into the dark voids of the long passage.

"Is this really going to be easy? To accommodate the collective unconscious of Japan, this place would have to be huge. A lot of ground to cover," said Joker.

An engine purr started behind Joker. He turned around. Oh. Right.

Mona had turned into the cat-van like he first did at the coliseum, in Kamoshida's castle.

"Don't worry. My meow-tory engine will take care of logistics! Hop on in. Ladies first," said Mona.

Comedienne almost opted for walking instead, just over that pun. But she reluctantly followed the others into the cat-van. Joker took driver's seat, Skull shotgun, the girls in backseat.

Into the shadows they drove, where Shadows awaited them.

* * *

A slender foot kicked over a paint bucket. Someone moaned. Feet stretched taut as the teenage girl was grinded under her senpai. Both girls were naked on the large futon.

Lying at the top, Kofuki drew back to admire her latest bedroom pawn. A petite, curvy cheeked first-year, who was a little too curious for her own good. Airi was barely in her mind. A bit of prodding here, a chauffeured ride with Kitagawa to his atelier, some MDMA and-

Airi whimpered, the hand of a third person violin-ing at her nipple. On Airi's gasping mouth, rested the Kitagawa's well-rounded, cockhead. Every time Airi moaned, her dewy lips played against the sensitive folds at the head, stimulating him. Even for Kofuki - this was a bit new for her. She had blown Yusuke plenty of times, but today, Airi was the near-fainting puppet doing it for her. Proxy blowjob.

Yusuke's eyes were shadowed in the dark atelier. He was on his knees, wearing only his white shirt. The rest of his clothes discarded on the floor. The jaw of this pretty-boy face of his was set clenched, in angst and pleasure.

Kofuki straddled herself cowgirl and reached behind her. Her hand found Airi's soft, wet folds. Kofuki drew two fingers in and did a ' _Come here_ ' motion. Further moans.

Yusuke groaned, feeling Airi's tongue jut out at, doing laps around the corona of his cockhead. The motion of Airi's tongue was primal, erratic, coming from a place of bidden pleasure by Kofuki.

 _What if. . ._ thought Kofuki. A new idea came to her mind.

Kofuki leaned back down, onto Airi. Their boobs, soft - white, pressed and gently flattened against each other. Kofuki drew a loose strand aside Airi's face. With Yusuke's cockhead still resting on Airi's mouth, Kofuki drew in for a kiss on Airi's lips.

Yusuke groaned. Holy. Shit.

Lip gloss and saliva mixed, as Airi and Kofuki French-kissed with Yusuke's dick in the intermediate. Kofuki's lips gently kissed, feeling hardened velvet - then sucked. Beneath, Airi did the same in tandem, having regained some awareness. Strokes began on Yusuke's shaft. Kofuki slowly ran her tongue on Yusuke's cock. Airi locked down his cockhead, sucking the underside like trying to pull a lolly-pop in. Kofuki returned to his cockhead and rapidly sucked and slurped.

Kofuki felt Yusuke's hand in her hair, clenching. In response, she shifted, rubbing herself on Airi. In-between licks and kisses, Airi panted; her body heating up against the slick hot sensation of Kofuki pressing against her. Not breaking away from slurping on Yusuke's cock, Kofuki slowly began humping on Airi. Airi moaned, her eyes closed. In response, Kofuki nudged Yusuke forward.

Yusuke's balls settle in Airi's wide open mouth; she began to suck on it, her moans vibrating his scrotum, sending a pleasure judder up Yusuke's back. Kofuki's lips closed around the head of Yusuke's cock. She paused there, looking up at Yusuke. Harsh ragged breaths were coming out escaping his mouth. He had been fighting climax for a while now. Yusuke made eye-contact with Kofuki. Kofuki bobbed her head sideways and winked at him. Then she took his entire shaft into her mouth.

From where Yusuke could see, Kofuki's back was a sheen of perspiration. Rivulets of sweat were falling on Airi's sides. The body-heat building between Kofuki and Airi's pressed forms.

Kofuki did not ease her humping on the squirming and whimpering Airi. In a matched rhythm, Kofuki pumped Yusuke's cock in timing with her thrusting. Airi broke off from sucking on Yusuke's scrotum, overwhelmed by the building heat rising in her belly. Airi's mind felt hazy, she felt close. . .to. . .

Kofuki readied one hand on Airi's pussy, the other grabbed Yusuke's clenching butt. She pumped and humped, the groans and moans getting louder from the other two. Heavy sweat slicked down Kofuki's chest as she upped the tempo. Just as Kofuki felt Yusuke's dick twitch in her mouth, she played her fingers onto Airi's pussy - thumb rubbing Airi's clit, the other fingers penetrating into the freshman's weak spot.

Airi's back arched, her orgasm driving her body into spasms. At the same time, Yusuke cummed into Kofuki's mouth. Kofuki did not swallow, instead holding all of his gushing load in her mouth. Then when Yusuke was done, Kofuki leaned down to Airi and went mouth-to-mouth, depositing the saliva-mixed jizz.

Airi juddered to a still. She soundlessly swallowed, her eyes closed. Kofuki broke off from Airi, a sticky string of saliva and sperm between the girls' lips. Next to the girls was Kofuki's dropped schoolbag, out sticking a small plastic sealed bag. Kofuki opened that and took out a blue pill. This one was not MDMA – but something sinister. While Airi was still out of it, Kofuki gently pried the blue pill into Airi's mouth. The girl wordlessly swallowed it,

Kofuki got off Airi and sat back with her arms propped. She examined the other two.

Yusuke had collapsed on his back, staring emptily up at the ceiling. Kofuki rolled her eyes. He was always like that after climaxing. Must be an artist depression thing. Airi was passing out, all covered in the girls' sweat. Kofuki realised her hand was wet from Airi's orgasm.

Kofuki stood up, coiffing her opalescent blonde hair. Sticky strands of the dyed hair were stuck on her face thanks to the sweaty threesome. Kofuki snaked around one of Yusuke's easel, which was in-front of a mirror.

Kofuki turned sideways, the soft curves of her ass being prominent. What was it her lingerie advisor told her? 87, 57, 88 cm were her measurements on her 163 cm tall frame. Kofuki ran a finger up the shadowed lines which emphasised her toned abs. To her round tits, tracing concentric circles.

Kofuki cupped her breasts. She wondered how long she would have these; naturally round boobs were rare, but plenty appreciated by the boys.

Kofuki glanced at the blacked-out Airi.

And some girls.

Kofuki spun on her heel, hands-on-hip.

"You had a good time?" she asked Yusuke.

For a moment, Yusuke did not reply. It was as if what little emotion Yusuke earlier had, was vampirically sucked by Kofuki. This was the main reason why Kofuki thought Yusuke could never be proper boyfriend material. He was just too melodramatic and depressed all the time. Still. . .he was nice to look at. Both dressed, undressed, on top. . .

"I. . .yes. It was most. . .stimulating. I think I'll be able to get back to my paintings now," said Yusuke.

At least their friends-with-benefits arrangement had proven mutually beneficial. Along with _that_ fringe benefit.

"Cool," said Kofuki.

Kofuki got dressed. She almost mistook Airi's blouse for her own. The girl still laid forgotten between Kofuki and Yusuke. Yusuke's glazed eyes skipped over Airi, as if she were also part of the floor – he left the room, still naked. Probably to take a shower. Kofuki doped him good.

After putting on her socks, Kofuki called out, "Airi and I are leaving now, Yusuke!".

Kofuki slid the atelier door shut, leaving Airi on the floor there. Yusuke did not reply.

On the way out of the shack, Kofuki stopped by the living room. An elderly Japanese man wearing traditional clothes, sat on the tatami with his eyes closed.

 _Here is the 'fringe benefit'_ , thought Kofuki.

Although Ichiryusai Madarame could not see her, Kofuki could tell the old man sensed her entry into the room.

"Well?" asked Madarame.

Kofuki checked the time on her phone while speaking. 6 PM. Maybe she could stop by the underground mall in Shibuya before heading home. Yen to burn. Plus, she needed to pick up an ointment for the scratch on her forearm. Courtesy of the cat she and her friends killed last night.

"I drugged him. Today afternoon should be another blurry memory. He's used to those, isn't he?" remarked Kofuki.

"But is it enough for him to get back to his paintings?" asked Madarame.

Kofuki arched an eyebrow.

"Aha. He is no longer. . .'switched off'. These synthetic drugs I'm providing will keep him on this sort of. . .light buzz mixed with numbness," said Kofuki.

"I see."

"By the way, how long do you intend for me to keep doing this to him? We've been at this for three months now. I don't know what has been making Yusuke depressed, but if he accidentally O-Ds on that small bottle I stock him. . ." said Kofuki.

Madarame pulled out a brown envelope from his sleeve. Her payment. He held it out to Kofuki.

When Kofuki made to pull it out of Madarame's hands, the package did not budge. Madarame kept a vice grip on it.

 _What gives?_ She thought.

Madarame opened his eyes. Those dark eyes almost made her jump. The was no anger in them. But there was something about those eyes that made Kofuki believe a darker personality was hidden inside this celebrated master of Japanese Arts.

"This will go on as long as Yusuke must continue to paint for me. _For me_. At the heart of the matter, this has got nothing to do with you, Kofuki Morishima," said Madarame.

He released the envelope. Kofuki took it and counted the cash inside. The bonus amount was there. Satisfied, she stowed it in her bag.

"One more thing. The girl brought home. Nobody knows where she went?" asked Madarame.

"Unless your driver made a mistake, nope. All her friends think she went straight to pick up her little brothers," said Kofuki.

"How did you lure her?"

"She always looked up to me. A suggestive whisper when no one was looking, is enough to draw her out to an isolated area to be picked up. Airi trusts me that way."

"Sounds like someone you might miss," suggested Madarame.

That glint in Madarame's eyes would flicker every second, a corollary of the spinning fan in the living room.

Kofuki smiled thinly. Maybe she could have missed Airi. But Airi was feeling remorseful about last night and was having guilt-trips. Kofuki knew what that would have led to eventually.

"It is difficult to miss a snitch," said Kofuki.

". . ."

"Besides-" she added, "-you were the one who specifically requested this individual. I don't know what you're doing. . ." Kofuki paused, thinking about that bartender she seduced and got to a love hotel. Kofuki was impressed herself that she managed to titillate the young man into giving her alcohol at the ritzy joint, more than wanting to sleep with her. Wonder what Madarame's men did to him, when she left him unconscious in the room.

". . .or where you're taking Airi. That's a heart of the matter that isn't for me to know, aha?" said Kofuki.

Madarame chuckled.

"You would be surprised. It's really all for. . .art," said Madarame, waving his hand airily.

For the first time in their conversation, Madarame was showing mirth.

Naturally, Kofuki thought the old man was pulling her leg. She did not know, he was really telling the truth. At least, if you believed what happened to the bartender was still 'art'.

"Cool. I'll be going now. And don't wait on Yusuke taking his time in the shower. Airi is K.O, but not your protégé."

Kofuki left the shack.

Madarame pulled out an old-fashioned cellphone and speed-dialled.

"Hello? Yes, it's me. I've acquired the. . ." Madarame paused, deciding on the word for Airi, ". . .the canvass. It's here in my shack. . .yes. . .yes. . .of course. You may wire the money to the same place as last time. . .I understand. Pleasure working with you. . .yes, do send them quickly to retrieve the canvass. . .goodbye."

The line clicked dead.

Madarame folded his arms and resumed his earlier, meditative demeanour.

#

The shower was left running on almost scalding hot. Yusuke sat on the tiles, curled into himself. Steam encircled his still form. He watched the water circle the drain, filtering into the dark void, beneath.

Yusuke raised his face to the showerhead. Water sprayed his face. Wet strands of hair fell back. He imagined himself dissolving into water paints. His hair melting into bluish paint, followed by the rest of him. Mixing with the water until there was nothing of him left. To drain away, into the darkness.

 _Can't be here forever_ , came a dull thought.

Sensei was expecting him to finish that painting. That painting. . .which one was it? Yusuke almost did not remember, did not care himself. He hated how he did not care. It was inconsiderate of him. After all that sensei has done for him. His master needed his help. . .sensei even asked Kofuki and that girl to help bring back Yusuke's spark. Hedonism and narcotics could cure depression, allegedly.

That girl with Kofuki. . .who was she? Yusuke wondered. Everything happened in a rush. The dark interior of sensei's Lexus. The two schoolgirls sitting with him. Maybe she was from Kosei. It did not matter.

 _I cannot be here forever_.

Forever. Infinite. The eternity. Few things were eternal. Like that infinite stretch of experience, when Yusuke first laid eyes on _Sayuri_. These days though, eternity obviated Yusuke's muse.

* * *

The headlights of the cat-van brightened at the whirling vortex on the 'dead end'. Mona slowed to a stop. Joker leaned forward, his arms resting on the steering wheel.

"What do ya' reckon?" asked Skull.

"A strong visual distortion. Rail tracks are twisting a bunch into it. I believe we've found Shadow Nakanohara's crib," said Joker.

"Joker's right. I sense the target up ahead," said Mona.

Comedienne stretched in the backseat, yawning.

"Finally. I was getting bored fighting those slime things on the way here," said Comedienne.

"Then this is some sort of portal to Nakanohara," said Panther.

"This here is a segment of his own creation. Don't worry, it's nothing like the scale of a Palace," said Mona.

Joker leaned back on his seat. He was feeling a bit lazy himself, sharing some of Comedienne's boredom. Joker found Mementos a bit dull, despite the little oddities of society's popular thoughts here and there. He was expecting this Nakanohara guy to be an easy affair. Joker switched off the engine.

"Ready?" asked Joker.

The others murmured their assent.

Everyone got out of the cat-van.

Nakanohara was a dark figure, waiting at the end. Joker noted the walls and floor here were broken up, taking slightly different colours to the earlier parts of Mementos. Signs of a Palace seedling.

Warbled whispers grew louder as they approached Nakanohara.

" _She's mine._ "

" _I control her_."

"This is the stalker guy from City Hall, huh," said Skull.

"I don't know how much damage he's done, but we can't leave him unchecked if he's bothering other people," said Panther.

"Let's try talking to him," said Mona.

"Talking? Screw that. Oi! Dipshit!" Comedienne shouted.

A bespectacled man with a bowl-cut, rotated to them. Joker noted Nakanohara did not seem to have any special suit like Kamoshida did - instead wearing a civilian business suit. The eyes however, were yellow like Kamoshida's.

"Who are you!?" asked Shadow Nakanohara.

"Jehovah's Witness."

"SHIORI," groaned everyone.

Comedienne threw up her hands.

"Alright alright. You guys take it from here," said Comedienne.

"Are you that stalker? Did you even stop once, to consider how your ex feels?" demanded Panther.

"She's my property! I can do whatever I want with her! It's not like she did not treat me like a plaything! What's wrong with me in doing the same!?" growled Shadow Nakanohara.

"You can't treat someone like shit just 'cause they did it to you! What a load of crap you're spouting. . .tch! We're going to change the hearts of all the bastards like you!" said Skull.

The swirling darkness around Shadow Nakanohara circled wider. Joker removed his hands from his pocket. Arsene materialled behind him. The others also summoned their Personas.

"Naïve fool. There are millions of people far worse than me! You think you'd stop me, pat yourself on the back, then go home feeling good about yourself!? It doesn't change a damn thing about the big picture! What about Madarame! What have you done about him?! He stole _everything_ from me but you're letting him off the hook?!" accused Shadow Nakanohara.

Joker shifted on his footing, trying to gauge this Shadow. Earlier on, Shadow Nakanohara's words had only an angry edge. Now there was a hint of bitterness and. . .hurt?

". . .Madarame? The hell's this guy goin' on about?" asked Skull.

 _Stole? Does he mean a burglar?_ Thought Joker.

Nakanohara's form exploded, turning into an Obariyon with the same bowl cut.

"In this winner-takes-all-world, I'm not going to let you steal what is mine - like he did! Come fight me and I'll show you what I mean!" challenged Shadow Nakanohara.

"Hehehe," said Comedienne, summoning her tachi.

 _Twenty-nine seconds later._

"Ack! Ack! I give up!" cried out Nakanohara.

The five Phantom Thieves dismissed their weapons and Personas. Joker heard Skull grumbling to Comedienne about hogging turns to attack. Shadow Nakanohara was keeling over, clutching his abdomen in pain.

"I-I was wrong. . .please forgive me. . .That evil teacher. He used me and threw me out on the street, left with nothing for my self-esteem. That's what started my fixation on her," said Shadow Nakanohara.

"Evil teacher?" asked Joker.

"Could it be that Madarame guy he was yappin' about earlier?" said Skull.

"Yes, him. I just. . .didn't want anyone to abandon me again," said Nakanohara.

"This Madarame could be a person of interest for us," said Comedienne.

"Some selfish jerk made you like this. Still - it was not right for you to drag an unrelated woman into your mess. Trauma unhealed can become trauma transferred and you still could have made the choice to spare her," said Panther.

Shadow Nakanohara's glasses fell off. To Joker's incredulity, he saw tears in the Shadow's eyes.

"Yes, I've realised that now. I'll put an end to my love for her. . ." said Shadow Nakanohara.

The Phantom Thieves tensed when Shadow Nakanohara dragged his feet towards Joker.

"Uh. . .Joker?" said Mona.

"Everyone stand down," said Joker.

Shadow Nakanohara grabbed Joker by both collars. The Shadow was shaking, as if silently sobbing.

"You. . ." he said to Joker, ". . .you can change hearts, right?"

Shadow Nakanohara's hands were disintegrating into pearlescent drops of light. Drops that floated up.

Joker nodded.

"In that case. . .won't you change Madarame's heart?! Please! Before more fall victim to him, like I did. As she said-" Shadow Nakanohara nodded to Panther, "-before more trauma is seeded from this one man."

". . ."

The Shadow was in a glow now. His face barely held form. But he managed one more distant-echoing word.

"Please. . ."

Shadow Nakanohara completely dissolved, leaving in his spot a starlight floating ball.

"Stealing this Madarame's heart," murmured Panther.

"What's that shinin' thing?" asked Skull, who found the shiny thing more fascinating than this Madarame mystery.

"It's the bud of a Treasure. Had we left it be, this place very well would have blossomed into a Palace," said Mona.

Joker clasped the Treasure bud. It felt warm and zingy. His finger pressed and compressed the Shadow's heart until it was in his closed fist. When Joker opened his palm, there was a white pearl.

"That's a good reward, Joker," said Mona.

"So Nakanohara had a change of heart, right?" asked Skull.

"Most likely," said Mona.

"I'm sure his ex will post in the forums again, if he's become a changed man. Mishima will let us know from there," said Comedienne.

"Either way, this trip to Mementos has been great. It's good preppin' for our next target!" said Skull.

"Hopefully this will be the start to giving people courage to post their problems online," said Panther.

 _I'll roll with this, for now_ , thought Joker.

There was only one target he cared about in all this. The sooner he became strong enough to guarantee Shido's downfall on his own, the better. Every other target will be a means to an end to get there. Ren intended to use this drive to block out the moral dilemma of taking away society's free will.

The gang exited Mementos, rematerializing in the busy Station Square of Shibuya. Shiori took a deep breath, happy to be back in the real world. Mementos was interesting but she found the air there to be 'dead'.

"Mementos. . .I still don't fully geddit. Noticed on our way there were certain sections that were blocked out. Why is that?" asked Ryuji.

"That is probably due to the public's cognition. Given that Mementos is everyone's Palace, engaging in its entire. . .psychic-mass would require a connection. In other words, we need to be known to the public. We were able to find Nakanohara's hideout in Mementos because his ex was the link, she knew about the Phantom Thieves," said Morgana.

"That means - the more famous the Phantom Thieves become, the more Mementos will open up to us?" asked Shiori.

"Exactly. Earlier on, I tried accessing some of the places in Mementos, before we changed Kamoshida's heart. They were closed off. Today though, some of those areas were opened up, thanks to our notorious stunt," said Morgana.

"How do you know these things, Morgana?" asked Ann.

Morgana's tail stiffened.

"My memories are a little. . .foggy in that regard. But I think, if we could open up more parts of Mementos, we might find a clue, a visual distortion like those popular songs, or people's thoughts, which would lead to my identity," said Morgana.

"So that's why you stuck your snout in with us. You need our help to unlock Mementos' secrets," said Ryuji.

"I-I just needed pawns," stammered Morgana.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed about it, Morgana. There is nothing wrong in needing help from your friends," said Shiori.

The cat's tail relaxed.

". . .Thank you. I'll be. . .relying on you guys," said Morgana.

"By the way Morgana, are you a guy or a girl?" asked Ann.

Everyone stared at the black cat. This was the first time they seriously considered the question. All this time everyone had assumed he was a boy.

"Could be a car," said Ren.

"That is a possibility," beamed Ann.

"A car. . .I wish I could deny it. But even I'm not sure," sighed Ryuji.

"Why not?!" huffed Morgana.

Ryuji shrugged.

"Hmm. Isn't Morgana a girl's name?" said Shiori.

"In any case, of course I'm male! I mean, I. . ." Morgana trailed off unsure.

 _A transgender?_ Wondered Shiori.

Morgana thought about his nightmare from last night. That lady said 'End him' before pushing the Morgana onto the train tracks.

"What is it?" asked Ann.

"No. . .it's nothing. We're done talking about this! Anyway, we now know we can perform minor changes of heart in Mementos. If we come across any eye-catching leads, it may be worth following up on them for a bit of combat practise. Who knows, we might even find a Palace ruler," said Morgana.

"Yeah. . .but Nakanohara wasn't that outstanding in battle though. We've fought stronger enemies in Kamoshida's Palace," said Ann.

"I'd bet we can get stronger opponents if we changed someone famous with a Palace and become well-known. The big fish are our main targets after all. Mementos has got to be hidin' some tough entities in its depths," said Ryuji.

"You already got a tough boss battle awaiting, Ryuji," Shiori reminded him.

"Huh? Who?"

"Exams."

Ryuji groaned. Of course. He almost forgot about all that.

"I gotta study. . ." said Ryuji.

* * *

When Ren got home, Sojiro tossed him a key. Ren deftly caught it.

"What is this?" asked Ren.

"Key to Leblanc. I never properly rewarded you for delivering Niijima's cake. You demonstrated yourself well that night. Did not get in trouble or anything. I think it's OK now to let you roam and socialise at night," said Sojiro.

That pleased Ren. There were some nights when he got bored being stuck up here in the attic. Maybe he could finally check out Shinjuku's nightlife.

"Thanks."

"Do not abuse this privilege. You understand?"

"I do. Thanks again."

The IM app buzzed when Ren settled into the attic.

_Ryuji: Man, that Nakanohara guy was a piece of cake! _

_Ryuji: If we can take down some big target next time, we're totally gonna get famous. _

_Ann: Hey! We're trying to help people, not get famous! _

_Ryuji: But if people don't know who we are, how are we gonna give them any courage _

_Shiori: I don't really care about giving folks 'courage'. But we do need the fame to unlock Mementos. _

_Ren: Good point _

_Ryuji: See? _

_Ann: I don't think you're necessarily wrong… _

Ann did not care about being famous? Thought Ren. He mistook her to be like Ryuji in that regard.

_Ann: But should we really be doing this at all if we don't have a reason, like with Kamoshida? _

_Ryuji: You mean we shouldn't be sticking our nose in other people's business? _

_Ryuji: I dunno man. If someone's in trouble, it's only natural to want to help em' out _

_Ann: I mean, I agree with that. _

_Ann: And I'm glad we were able to solve the stalker case. _

_Shiori: I think Ann was also talking about the targets themselves, too. _

_Ryuji: You mean you would leave bastards like Nakanohara alone? _

_Shiori: Depending on the situation, I would. _

_Ryuji: That's crazy! _

_Shiori: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Most of today was just about learning about Mementos for me. _

_Shiori: Nakanohara was just an element of Morgana's teaching course, of how things worked there. _

_Ryuji: But didn't you say you wanted to practise with Yoshitsune, Shiori? _

_Ryuji: What good are our Personas, if we don't use em' for good? _

_Shiori: …You're right. _

_Ryuji: Don't you agree, Ren? _

"I agree," said Morgana, who was reading the chat log by Ren's side.

Ren tried to keep his reply as detached as possible:

_Ren: It's a case-by-case basis for me. _

_Ren: But I think it is good that Nakanohara was stopped _

_Ann: Yeah. _

_Ryuji: We don't got much time to be arguing about this either. That Madarame(?) guy bothers me. _

_Ryuji: Nakanohara was begging Ren to change him. _

_Ann: Yeah. But let's not get carried away about this whole thing, OK? _

_Ann: And don't do anything to stand out, like failing all your exams. _

_Ryuji: Oh crap. Speaking of that, I haven't studied at all… _

_Shiori: I think I should be good. X-Files binge for me tonight, hehe _

_Ryuji: You're so lucky that you're smart, Shiori T_T _

_Shiori: If there's something you don't understand, ask me. I'll help. _

There was another IM beep. This time from the private conversation with Shiori.

_Shiori: Ryuji seems preeeeetty keen about this changing heart business. _

_Shiori: A bit overzealous. _

_Shiori: At least Ann is keeping a balanced head about this. _

_Ren: I knew this would happen. _

_Ren: But whatever. It's not like we've screwed up. _

_Shiori: Yet* 😉 _

_Shiori: That pearl treasure you got from Shadow Nakanohara's heart _

_Shiori: I was thinking we could sell that to Iwai from 'Untouchable' _

_Ren: The gun he gave us… _

_Shiori: Yeah. That has its own world of a dilemma lol _

_Ren: We'll visit Iwai after exams _

_Ren: Let's keep the complicated to calculus for now _

_Shiori: One more thing. _

_Shiori: Makoto Niijima. _

The chat paused. Shiori was waiting for Ren to say something.

 _Speaking of Makoto, I wanna talk to Ann about what happened at the rooftop today_ , thought Ren.

_Ren: She definitely did not confront us of her own intrinsic motivation. _

_Ren: I don't see the school president being the type to concern herself with the clown foolery of those calling cards. _

_Ren: But something needs to be done - to get Niijima off our case. _

_Shiori: We could always… _

_Ren: What? _

_Shiori: …murder her and hide the body **（￣～￣）** It is an option y'know _

_Ren: ಠ_ಠ _

_Shiori: Pls Ren. I hate her so much. _

_Ren: The red file you have. You know very well we're going with that _

_Shiori: :| _

_Shiori: You suck _

_Shiori: I need to carefully review all the material that's in the file. _

_Shiori: Then decide which method to stop the principal and his leashed hound_

_Ren: How long will you need? _

_Shiori: Hmm. _

_Shiori: This isn't something we can leverage immediately. _

_Shiori: You understand why…the people who are most suspicious, cannot be noticed responsible for the principal's termination, yeah? _

_Ren: Yes. _

_Shiori: So we have two choices. We put Kobayakawa's neck on a chopping block and threaten to drop the guillotine. _

_Ren: …you…mean blackmail? _

_Shiori: Yes 😊 _

_Shiori: We would be the true shadow king and queen of Shujin MUAHAHAHAHA _

_Shiori: Anyway the other choice is giving this to a contact in the media. _

_Ren: Like an investigative journalist. Hmm. _

_Shiori: Precisely. Do you know one? _

_Ren: No. But I could make a phone call and see what's possible _

_Shiori: Ahh yes. Your affluency must grant you a network. :P _

Ren squirmed. Was that a tease?

_Shiori: Relax. You're still the same Ren to me. I'm sure the same is true for the others _

_Shiori: You do your thing then. Let me know how it goes _

_Ren: This would have to be super low-profile. A lot of trust would be placed on a would-be contact _

_Shiori: Yeah. If you can't find one, no fret. _

_Shiori: I got no qualms about shoving a rod up Kobayakawa's arse and blackmailing him _

_Shiori: Bastard is instrumentally responsible for what happened to Shiho _

* * *

Ann tucked her legs in. She was sitting by her bedroom window, wearing short tights and a loose woolly sweater. By her feet was a fat steaming mug of hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows. On the window was the gentle _pitter-patter_ of rain on the glass panes. Atop her desk, laid opened Ann's Mathematics exercise and textbook. This was one of her quirks. Taking a 'study break' for an hour, after hitting the books for ten minutes.

Down at the dark wet boulevard, the blurry black movement of pedestrians animated the road. Maybe they were visiting one of the boutique stores or restaurants in the narrow laneways, Ann thought. It was Saturday, 4:50 PM, so _Hokoten_ was active. 'Pedestrian heaven' – a time when the main road of Ginza was closed off to cars. It was unusual for a high school student to live in a district associated with powerful businessmen, luxury fashionistas and high-heeled wives, burning plastic money. A fringe benefit for the Takamaki parents; working for the international label which gifted this spacy apartment.

From the living room, the instrumental version of Utada Hikaru's _Sakura Nagashi_ played in ambient volume. Ann rested her head against the glass and sighed. Water droplets slid on the glass, hued to different colours with the billboards outside. Red, white, green. Red, white, green. Red, white-

Ann blinked. Her phone was tooting. It was a special ringtone, meant to ring only when a certain person from her contacts messaged.

_Ren: Earlier today, at the rooftop. _

_Ren: You seemed kinda depressed. _

_Ren: Is everything alright? _

_Ann: Did I? _

_Ren: Your gaze was set to the ground _

 _Should I. . .? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least ask him. . ._ thought Ann.

Those blue eyes lowered. No. She was being selfish to consider that. Ren was probably busy, wanting to study for exams.

_Ann: Oh! Um…it's nothing. _

_Ann: I'm fine! Seriously! Besides, I wouldn't want to trouble you. _

#

 _Hmm_ , thought Ren. She needed a bit of nudging.

_Ren: Right… _

_Ren: I actually wanted to talk to you about.. _

_Ren: Uh. Nevermind. Goodnight. _

#

Ann's curiosity spiked. What was it?

_Ann: About what? _

_Ann: Hello..? _

_Ann: Say, do you want to study together at the diner? _

_Ann: The one in Shibuya. _

_Ann: We can also talk about whatever it is you wanted to say, there _

#

Ren smirked at the screen. Like a cat on the laser dot.

_Ren: Sure :-) _

_Ren: See you there _

* * *

Ren swirled the melting ice cubes in his soft drink. It was 10 PM and the diner was almost empty. Ann sat opposite him, yawning. The past hours were spent reviewing potential exam material. In-between them was their second basket of chips. Twice accidentally, their hands brushed against each others', when reaching for a chip. Or was it really accident?

Ann closed her books. She leaned forward, stretching her arms out back. Ann paused, noticing Ren surreptitiously stare at her chest - full and taut against the stretched fabric. She held the poise longer than she needed to before slowly retracting her arms.

"I think I'm done studying for the night. You?" said Ann.

Ren paused from his sip.

"I stopped twenty minutes ago. Don't like studying too much."

"Haha. Same. Except, five minutes is my 'too much'," said Ann.

Those grey eyes were half-lidded. Ren's eyes reminded Ann of veils. Like grey curtains hiding what he was thinking or feeling.

"What was it. . ." Ann began.

His eyes lifted to hers.

". . .you wanted to talk about?"

Ren sat his soft drink down.

"Nothing. I just wanted an excuse to study with someone," Ren said offhandedly.

 _Plus, it seemed like you needed this_ , Ren silently thought.

"Oh. . ."

Heat spooled in Ann's belly. He choose her over the others? It felt nice to be wanted in company.

"What about Shiori? I mean, you guys live very near each other. And she's the brightest in our class. You could have studied with her," said Ann.

"I could have. But here I am," he said.

Ann hesitated.

 _Maybe now is a good time to bring it up. We are done studying_ , thought Ann.

"I was thinking about what happened earlier today. Something that was said, which reminded me how I failed Shiho," Ann said slowly.

Ren straightened in his seat.

 _OK, brain. Don't screw up_ , thought Ren.

"You mean, when Makoto showed up to the rooftop?" asked Ren.

Ann nodded.

"Remember when Kamoshida threatened to take Shiho off the team if I didn't sleep with him. . .or a-accuse you of that thing? I only agreed to it then because I didn't want Shiho's dreams ruined. But now that I really think about it, he never would have put her on the bench and cost his team, games. . .I seriously should have dared him on the spot to try and take her starting spot. I guess. . .in the end, I just maybe didn't believe in Shiho's ability," sniffled Ann.

Ren placed the serviette box closer to Ann.

"Do you think I'm right? That I was so stupid to believe in Kamoshida's authority outweighing Shiho's ability to earn her spot on the team?" Ann asked him, wiping her nose.

"You should have believed in her-" Ren answered honestly, "-but. . .Kamoshida was a maniac. Think about it, Ann. Sure, he wouldn't have benched Shiho. But she still would have suffered under him. You refusing him that day was pretty much daring him to see how far he would push things. An unfortunate kismet."

"I cried a lot that day. Before I followed you out to that bookstore. Part of me thought I was really out to do you in. But looking back, I didn't have it in me. Neither was I planning to break down in front of you like that. I think I did 'cuz I felt really alone. . .and scared. It all became too much. But you still stayed back to talk to me - even after I 'tested' you," said Ann.

"Test?"

"When I bluffed - asking if you still wanted to talk to me, knowing I slept with Kamoshida."

"Oh. That's what it was," said Ren; he was feeling embarrassed now for believing her at first.

"I was surprised at how pressed you were in wanting to assure me. Usually when people do that. . .in my case, when guys do that, they're projecting they might save some pure damsel. For some reason, guys love the 'pure' and passive types," said Ann.

Ren laughed.

"I know what you mean. It's not that I dislike girls like those. No offence to those who do. Some people like the colour blue, others white. Everyone has their own preferences. But sometimes the chase for that stereotype comes off as kinda. . .obsessive and stifling to me," said Ren.

Ann half-smiled.

"What kind of girl do you like?" asked Ann.

Ren shook his head.

"I don't bother with that. Filling out a mental checklist or imagining a golden statue of my ideal chic. I prefer a more, in the moment thing. Spontaneous passion. Kind of like. . .going with the flow I suppose," remarked Ren.

Ann's eyes widened.

" _Tch! Your father and I went with the flow. . ."_

After taking a sip, Ren said, "Maybe I can word that better-"

 _I think you worded it well_ , thought Ann.

"-have you heard of the phrase, 'Koi no Yokan'?" asked Ren.

"Love's premonition," she said.

Ren nodded.

"That sense when you first meet someone. . .and you just _know it_. Indubitably. That you're going to-" Ren gave an embarrassed cough, "-that you're going to. . .you know. Fall in love," he said the last three words quickly - as if biting hot chilli.

"Which is different from love at first sight," said Ann.

"Yeah. Because it does not imply that love exists already. Only the knowing that it is. . .inevitable," he said quietly.

". . .I'm glad you were there that day. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't. Thank you," said Ann.

Ren shrugged.

"I couldn't just leave you there," said Ren.

 _You're so kind, Ren_ , thought Ann.

"Things have sort of changed now, but back then, people used to call me all sorts of names. 'Prissy bitch', 'Kamoshida's girl'. . .I got tired of it all pretty quick. I thought I was over people calling me names. But today, when Makoto showed up on the rooftop-" Ann's voice was lower now. Her lower lip slightly trembled. "-when she called me 'the girl of rumour'; it caught me off-guard. More so, it kinda. . .stung."

". . ."

"But to tell you the truth. Someday I want to be able to take labels like those, in stride. Personas are the power of the heart, right? So if my heart gets stronger, Carmen will get stronger too," said Ann.

"I imagine that's how it works," said Ren.

"What about you? How do you feel about strengthening Arsene?" asked Ann.

Ren sat back, finding the question unexpected. He was more used to people talking about themselves, with him being the listener

"A stronger Arsene. . ."

Ren held out his hands in front of his, picturing his P.T red gloves. The gentleman thief's mellifluous laughter echoed in Ren's ears. Flaming eyes. The valet de chambre to Death.

"There are two roads to making my Persona stronger. But why choose Arsene when I can. . ." murmured Ren.

"Huh?"

Ren shook himself out of that thought. For a moment, he felt confused. What was that about?

"Sorry. I think the sugar rush is getting to my head. I guess I'd like to make Arsene stronger. But I'm not sure how. Or what 'stronger' truly means," said Ren.

"Me too. But I'm going to find out, so I can save people from trouble, just like we did when we changed Kamoshida's heart. That's a promise!"

"Let's find it together," affirmed Ren.

That lit up a smile from Ann. Ren sharply inhaled. Whenever she did that, there was this thawing sensation in his chest.

"Yay! Oh hey! There's somewhere I wanna show you," said Ann.

"Where?"

"Daikanyama. C'mon!" said Ann.

* * *

It was no longer raining when Ann and Ren exited the diner.

"We've been talking about some pretty heavy things, and I didn't want tonight to end on that kind of note. There is this lovely Italian café that serves sweets," gushed Ann.

Daikanyama turned out to be a foliage & backstreet area, filled with boutique and craft beer breweries. They reached the hilltop park which afforded them an overlook of the city and its roads. Small red dots from the highway crawled in the night. Ren heard a nightmarish neigh of a horse, preceding a black motorcycle which overtook the slow traffic of cars. Curious.

Ahead on the footpath, there was a small puddle, brimmed with rainwater. Ann felt both her sleeves gently tugged; Ren veered her to the side, away from walking onto it. A wordless 'Thanks' passed in-between them. Unconsciously, Ann walked closer by Ren's side.

"It's just up there, ahead," said Ann.

They ordered take-out cannoli dipped in chocolate chips, from _Bondolfi Boncaffe._ While eating on a bench at the park, Ren learned this was her second favourite place in the world to buy sweets from. The first being a joint in Bruxelles, Ann's mother took her to on her sixteenth birthday.

Ann stared at Ren, who nibbled on the last of his cannolo. Even before she warmed up to him, Ann had found Ren handsome. The sharp jaw. That perfectly messy dark hair. Right now, the cold light from the lamp post angled dark shadows under his cheekbones and brow. Ann's toes curled in her shoes as she joggled her shoulders thinking: How could she get Ren to her apartment so she could jump his bones?

 _Maybe I could ask if he wants to come home for coffee and snacks_ , thought Ann.

'But you guys just had snacks,' pointed out the voice of boring rationality in her head.

"It's pretty late," said Ren looking at his phone.

 _Quickly, before he decides to leave!_ Thought Ann.

Ren's eyebrows furrowed.

"I can't remember if I filled Morgana's food bowl, now that I think about it. . ." said Ren, his voice trailing off.

Ann's shoulders drooped. Shucks.

"You should probably go. In case he's hungry," said Ann, her disappointment unsounded.

Ren nodded.

He walked Ann back to Shibuya Station, where they parted ways, bidding each other goodnight. When Ann got home, she fell back on her bed, barely kicking off her sneakers. Staring up at the dark ceiling, Ann gingerly touched her cheeks and found they were burning. Her hand dropped to the bed and clenched the sheet, tight.

How differently the night could have ended.

* * *

"Hey. How'd the study session go?" Morgana asked Ren.

Turned out, Ren had not forgotten to serve Morgana's dinner.

"Not bad. Although, it's kinda tricky to study around Ann without being distracted. Not her fault though," said Ren.

"How was she? Lady Ann I mean. Those things that were said to her today at the rooftop. . ."

Ren's forehead loured as he placed his bag on the table.

"It was immature of Makoto to say those things to the girls. I have a feeling the school president has led a very sheltered life, which stunts her judgement of interpersonal dynamics and empathy. Makoto could have approached us today, a lot more efficiently and politely," said Ren.

"Given that you're suspected to be a bad guy by Makoto, do you really expect her to treat you fair?" asked Morgana.

"Ha."

Ren sat on his bed, taking off his glasses.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to remind you how society treats you like crap because of your criminal-"

Ren waved him silent.

"Nah nah. You're right. Maybe I'm overestimating what kind of person Makoto should be. I guess she's the same as the rest of them," said Ren.

"What are you going to do about her?" asked Morgana.

Ren yawned, lying back on his pillow. As he reached for his blanket, something scratched at the back of his thoughts. Like a sixth sense trying to tell him about something he had not noticed. Ren shrugged and pulled the blanket over.

"Shiori and I will handle it. Don't worry," said Ren.

* * *

 **In this AU, Yusuke is under a subconscious disillusionment over his relationship with Madarame. Because he chooses to reject the realisation that something is off about his sensei, our next Phantom Thief latticed bottled up feelings and frustrations which has led to his suffering of depression. The other side of the coin is Yusuke's repressed memories of his mother. His character arc will be explored in this regard and Sayuri will be an important element of it. Another thread of this arc is Kofuki Morishima, a girl who weaponises seduction for her own self-gain and amusement. I was not expecting this OC to be prominent in the story, but now that we're here, I think she'll be able to contribute to this arc, making it more interesting than a version without her involvement. Naturally, Makoto is closer to the main narrative now :-)**


	21. Venus

.

The school bell tolled. Pigeons took off the bell tower, their wings catching opalescent grey against the sun rays which fell divided on Kosei High School. From inside the prayer room, Hifumi opened her eyes. The arabesque statue of the Virgin Mary stared down at her.

 _Ding_.

In the many months since her father became ill, Hifumi had become familiar with Mary's eyes.

 _Ding._

Those empty stone eyes.

 _Ding._

Hifumi raised herself, picking up her bag. Wooden pieces clacked inside her bag. The pieces of the shogi set she carried around with her.

"Does she send you off in peace?" the visiting school missionary asked Hifumi.

Hifumi turned around – back at the statue. Her classical Japanese beauty caught highlighted by the stained church windows, like the many facets of a turning diamond.

 _Ding_.

Her lying lips were the colour of emeralds and dreams.

"Yes," said Hifumi.

Gravel scraunched outside the prayer room entrance. Freshmen boys ran past Hifumi laughing. Kosei's front courtyard had students unwinding on the minty green grass. Some were about to head home, others back to the on-campus dormitories. The loud peals of laughter reminded Hifumi that a happy world existed outside the Virgin Mary's sombre atmosphere. Outside her father's bedroom.

Hifumi checked her phone. Goro had not yet replied from the previous messages.

 _Even the 'Gold General' piece has its limits. Goro must be occupied_ , thought Hifumi.

She never told anyone, not even Goro – but Hifumi sometimes liked to stereotype people after shogi pieces. Goro was naturally identified as the piece that was the king's helper. It was good she kept stuff like that under wraps; anyone would freak out if they saw just how much she really was obsessed with shogi. Hifumi caught herself more than once, muttering metaphorical declarations during a professional match.

While walking on the gravel path, Hifumi realised someone had stopped to speak to her. It was Yokohama sensei, Hifumi's homeroom teacher.

". . .so have you seen her, Togo-san?"

Hifumi blinked. The world was dimming earlier; a sign of her not eating well these days. The episodes brought her moments of sensory static. That reminded Hifumi, her Persona had been unhappy with her poor diet habits.

"I beg your pardon, sensei?"

"Airi. She did not come to school today and her parents do not know where she is either. The police came by again, this time regarding a missing student," said Yokohama.

Airi. . .

The girl from class 2-A, Hifumi remembered. Hifumi knew her by face and a few polite words of exchange. That girl hung out with _those types_ though. It was already that time of the school year when social circles were tightening, so Hifumi had not interacted with her that much. Not that Hifumi really wanted to. There were scary rumours that Airi's friends were the ones who killed some poor cat. People were talking about it after the police paid a visit to the school.

"I have not. Airi and I were not really friends," said Hifumi.

Yokohama nodded.

"All right then. If you do find out anything, please let the school know," he said.

Yokohama's crunching footsteps faded.

That left Hifumi concerned. A bit surprised too. Hifumi did not think she had any room to spare for worry, with her dad not being well. Hifumi continued her way, wondering what else she knew about this Airi. The girl hung out with the popular kids from the art stream. Who were the popular ones from there? Tanaka, Daisuke, Morishima, "Jettomero" the aspiring mangaka and. . .

Hifumi reached the school gates, a stairway Z-shaping down to the road. A few students were here, idly strutting in no hurry to leave. One student stuck out. He sat on the steps, arms hugging himself as if cold. Although his back was turned to her, Hifumi instantly recognised him from his blue hair.

Kitagawa Yusuke. He was also part of Airi's clique.

Hifumi shaded her eyes. The bleached concrete steps lit-up under the sunlight, containing some reflective mineral rock from the time it was slurry mixed. Thousands of tiny diamonds glittered and smarted under Hifumi's steps, her black shoes tapping off at each step down.

With the hazy mirage of heat going up to her waist, Hifumi felt like she was walking in a dream, an effect complemented by sudden lightheadedness. One of her light dizzy spells was happening. The white concrete became brighter and brighter. So bright that in front of her, Yusuke's white shirt was indistinguishable.

The world turned when Hifumi fell forward.

#

Yusuke was so zoned out, he almost did not feel the impact being Hifumi's cushion, preventing her from injury. They both rolled down two steps before stopping at a plateau segment of the stairway; the fleshy mass of Hifumi's buttocks pressed against Yusuke's face, suffocating him to a death by snoo-snoo.

Yusuke laid starfish on the concrete, not even bothering to remove himself from his classmate. He decided this was not the worst way to die. There was some muffled shout, Yusuke was not sure. He did not give a shit.

Just as his vision was starting to form white spots, someone lifted Hifumi off him. On reflex, Yusuke's mouth gasped open for air, his beating heart stubbornly reminding him, 'I win this round you suicidal fuck!'.

A strand of blonde hair tickled Yusuke's nose. Yusuke blinked. Kofuki was kneeling above him, hands-on-thighs. Beside her was a male student, steadying Hifumi. The disappointment must have been evident on Yusuke's face because Kofuki's face melted into a grin, squeezing his cheek.

"What were you hoping for?" Kofuki teased.

"That I'd be in heaven," replied Yusuke.

Kofuki dimpled.

"If you can see me, you're still on Earth," she said.

"Or hell."

"That too."

Yusuke got up, dusting down his shirt. Yusuke's shirt collar had been snipped open during the spinning collision. Kofuki tidied his collar, her finger briefly pausing on the red skin where Hifumi's shogi board had pressed through the bag. Kofuki clipped his collar shut.

"Thank you. Is she. . ." Yusuke gestured over Kofuki's shoulder, to Hifumi.

The other student was fussing over Hifumi, asking if she had any injuries.

"I'm fine, thank you. . ." said Hifumi.

When Hifumi caught attention of Yusuke, she said to him, "I'm so sorry, Kitagawa-kun! I hope I did not hurt you. My footing caught in the wrong place. . ."

Hifumi's hair was a tad mess from the fall. By some miracle, there was not a single scratch on that pretty face of hers.

Yusuke told her he was fine. Hifumi's face reddened, as if his nonchalance implied something which embarrassed her.

"Right. OK then. . ." said Hifumi, hesitating.

Now that they were in-front of her, Hifumi wanted to ask Kofuki and Yusuke about Airi. But then again, the slight dizziness was still fringing.

 _No. . .it's better if I leave now before I pass out_ , thought Hifumi.

Hifumi gave a quick bow, muttering to be excused. The tapping of her shoes sounded skittish, as Hifumi hurried down the steps.

"Strange girl," commented Kofuki.

"That's Hifumi Togo. She's the shogi idol, yo!" piped the boy who helped her up.

Kofuki shrugged. She knew who Hifumi was but did not buy into the girl's hype as a shogi genius. A lot of normal things become a bigger deal if you take a person who is doing something – whether having a hobby or competing in a sport – and they happen to be beautiful. Not that Kofuki resented the phenomenon. It was normal society behaviour.

"Well I'll see you tomorrow, Yusuke! Try not to bury your face into any more asses in the meantime!" said Kofuki.

Yusuke lethargically waved bye. He noticed something red by his shoe.

"What is this. . ." he said to himself.

Yusuke picked it up. It was a loosened knot, tied from a novelty red rope. The sort that could pass for a hair accessory. The shape was akin to a three-leaf clover.

 _Is this Togo-san's?_ Thought Yusuke.

* * *

Shiori was watching _Pacific Rim_ when Ren texted her. She clicked pause, the screen freezing at a frame of Gypsy Danger punching a kaiju.

_Ren: You free after this? _

_Shiori: Why? _

_Ren: Mishima just texted me. _

_Ren: He said Nakanohara's ex posted in the forums _

_Ren: Saying the PTs changed his heart _

_Ren: Now he wants to meet _

_Shiori: Now? _

_Ren: Told me he's already sitting at the diner _

_Ren: Normally I would have refused but… _

_Ren: Jeez. It sounds like he's going to wait there for hours anyway _

_Shiori: Why drag me into this ('д')/_

_Ren: He also asked if you'd be coming… _

_Shiori: …you're shitting me _

_Ren: Yeah. Congratulations. The Phantom Thieves P.R manager takes a fancy to you _

_Shiori: He's not our PR manager! _

_Ren: Well he IS managing the Phan-Site _

_Shiori: Where are you anyway? Morgana said you're not at home _

_Ren: At the gym _

_Ren: With Ryuji _

_Ren: Working out is great. You should try it sometimes _

_Shiori: Paying money to run on the same spot for an hour? Yeah, sounds real clever to me… _

_Ren: -.- You know it's a lot more than that. _

_Ren: Try to be a little bit nice when you're there, OK? _

 _Excuse me? I did not say I agreed_ , thought Shiori.

She replied:

_Shiori: I don't need to be nice. _I'm pretty_. _

#

Ren sighed. He could almost hear Shiori's sassy tone when he read that.

_Ren: Just…be there _

Ren was in the changing room lockers at _Protein Lovers_ gym. A couple of lockers slammed. Showerheads blasted. Ryuji was waiting for him outside.

Ren found Ryuji talking to a boy in a red T-shirt.

". . .oh? Is this your friend? I don't recognise him from the school track team," said the stranger.

"This is Ren. He just transferred to Shujin this yea'. Ren, this is Ikeda-senpai. He graduated last year," said Ryuji.

"Nice to meet you," said Ikeda.

Ren nodded.

"Well met."

"Speaking of the track team, how's your leg, man?" asked Ikeda.

Earlier on during their strenuous workout, Ren was impressed at how Ryuji was willing to push himself, despite his lopsided posture. Ryuji seemed smart about fitness too, always taking care not to needlessly injure his leg.

"Eh. I'm managin'. . .How about you, senpai? Still runnin'?" asked Ryuji.

"I've actually joined my university's track team. You'd think I would have quit the sport after. . .heh. After what happened. . ." said Ikeda.

Ryuji scratched his head, on reflex.

"About that. . .I just wanna say again I'm really sorry about what I did last year," said Ryuji.

Ikeda shook his head.

"No. What happened last year, was on me. I was the track team leader yet I took Kamoshida's power abuse in silent resignation. I did not even stand up for you when Kamoshida had a go at your family. I should be the one apologising," said Ikeda.

"But you had to be like that so Kamoshida could write your letter of rec', right?" said Ryuji.

Ren thought about Makoto. Was that why she was doing the principal's bidding? A letter of recommendation? Ren was not sure. He did not know Niijima all that well.

"You were just looking out for your future. . .but I still managed to fuck it up anyway," said Ryuji.

"Nah. I know now Kamoshida never intended to write that letter. Why would he? He only wanted successful volleyball players coming out of Shujin, not us. You were just his official excuse not to do it. And to be honest, I enjoy where I am now. The track team is not special, but it feels good to know I earned my spot without bending my integrity. Maybe. . .I should be thanking you, Sakamoto. What you did, helped open my eyes," said Ikeda.

"S-senpai. . ."

Ikeda smiled. A sad smile.

"I always regretted not doing more to protect you guys. But my guilt eased when I heard some good news, yesterday. The Shujin track being reinstated, I mean," said Ikeda.

Even Ren did not know this. Ryuji too seemed surprised.

"For real?!" exclaimed Ryuji.

"I mean, Kamoshida confessed doing all that horrible stuff he did, right? I guess the school had to redact their decision and got the old team back together, to try and start it back up again," said Ikeda.

". . .none of the guys told me about that," said Ryuji, sounding a bit crushed.

"Huh, odd. The rumours got as far as me and I'm not even a student anymore. I was pretty surprised when I heard who was put in-charge of this though."

"Who?" asked Ryuji.

"Mr. Yamauchi."

"Yamauchi. . .? Hang on, THAT Yamauchi!?" said Ryuji.

Ikeda looked sheepish himself.

"Yeap. Kamoshida's little lapdog. Apparently, he volunteered when he heard about the initiative. Sounded pretty enthusiastic about reviving the track team from the ashes."

"Is he now. . ." Ryuji said slowly.

"You know, now that the team is being reinstated, there should not be any need for bad-blood. I think you should give him a chance, Sakamoto. Go talk to them. They could use someone with your passion."

Ryuji did not look entirely convinced.

"Yeah. . ."

After leaving the gym, Ren could tell Ryuji was still thinking about his conversation with Ikeda.

"The track team is coming back. . .good for them, I guess," said Ryuji.

"Do you want to re-join?" asked Ren.

Ryuji shook his head.

"Nah. Not really. . .but for real. I am glad for Nakoaka and the others that the team is coming back. They'll be allowed to start trainin' with the proper amenities now. It's just Yamauchi that bugs me. He's basically a mini-Kamoshida," said Ryuji.

"Another asshole. Shujin seems to be a manufacturing plant for these types," Ren said wryly.

"If you knew half of it, dude. He'd always yell his head off during practice then become all kiss-arse when our parents were around. Ugh. . .I can't believe a moron like that is going to be advising the track team. He can't even teach P.E!"

". . ."

"Imma keep my ear to the ground. In case something is going on. I'll be countin' on your help if something happens, aite?"

"No problem."

* * *

Shiori was already waiting outside the diner when Ren arrived.

"You were quick," said Ren.

"You're the one who forced me to be here," grumbled Shiori.

"I'm not the one who forced the other to drink Tae's spooky juice!"

". . .but did you die?"

"I missed like a ton of missed calls from Sojiro!"

". . .but did you die?"

Ren scowled.

"Let's just get this over with," he said.

Three empty cups of coffee were in-front of Mishima. He was on his fourth, Shiori observed. Class 2-D's representative looked really tired to her. Ren ordered tea for Shiori and himself then sat down with her at the booth.

"Glad you two could make it. How have things been? You know, with the. . .special-" Mishima yawned, "-special activities?"

 _Kind of discomforting he believes we're the Phantom Thieves_ , thought Shiori.

"You seem tired," said Ren.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I've been staying up, managing the Phan-Site all night, every night. I think it's called, PR?" said Mishima.

Ren gave Shiori a 'I-told-you-so' look.

"I'm not sure if I follow, Mishima. Why the P.R?" asked Shiori.

"I mean, what's the point in being heroes if no-one's going to know about it? The Phantom Thieves need to be celebrated by the people. That's why I've started platform accounts. There's the-" Mishima began counting on fingers, "Aficionado website, Twitter account, Vero, WhatsApp page, a subreddit and just opened this morning, a Discord server. It's been a lot of work blocking and filtering out the haters."

". . ."

". . ."

Mishima continued.

"We need the Phantom Thieves to be seen in the proper light if you wanna get popular, right?"

Shiori frowned.

"I don't think we need the popularity. It's kind of weird," said Shiori.

"Nonsense. People need to know the good you're doing," insisted Mishima.

". . ."

"This all sounds kinda tough, Mishima. Do you really want to do this?" asked Ren.

 _Nobody asked you to do this_ , thought Shiori.

"You're not wrong. But hey, I bet it's _nothing_ compared to what you guys are doing in the shadows. Part of me is curious about what your methods are. . .haha, don't look so stressed! It's fine. I actually don't want to know. Would spoil the mystery and glamour surrounding the Phantom Thieves," said Mishima.

The waitress arrived with the tea. Being red-headed, the waitress reminded Shiori of Erica from _Catherine_. Mishima waited until she was gone when he spoke again.

"I do sometimes wish. . .I could be more like you guys somehow."

Shiori's eyes narrowed.

"Meaning?" she asked.

"A Phantom Thief," replied Mishima, looking down at the table.

Ren noticed Shiori had her thinking face on – rapid blinking as if she was taking Polaroid pictures with her eyes. The girl was processing this new bit of information, filing it away for future references and deviltries.

Mishima brightened.

"But! I'll still be here to draw attention to the stuff you do! You can leave that part to me! I'm going to use the Phan-Site franchise to promote the Phantom Thieves and weed out any negative comments. Your popularity is going to be at my mercy – or uh. . .my fingertips. If you'd like Shiori, we can meet-up after school to discuss slogans," said Mishima.

Shiori pretended she did not hear, taking a long sip of her tea with her eyes closed.

 _This arrangement is a dry tinderbox_ , thought Ren.

But it was already too late. Mishima knew too much and the last thing they needed now with Makoto snooping around, was upsetting the guy.

"It's like I'll be your strategic image management representative, so to speak," Mishima hastily added, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"You. . ." Ren began, trying to collect diplomatic words, ". . .seem really hyped for this," said Ren.

"Hehe. Just you wait. Oh, I don't have your number, do I, Shiori? I got Ren's but not yours. Let's exchange," said Mishima.

Shiori wordlessly complied. The Bluetooth contact exchange confirmed on their phone screens. If Shiori felt anything about Mishima's prompt, she did not show it. Mishima yawned.

"I gotta say though. Managing all this is really tiring work," said Mishima.

"You should get some rest, Mishima. Exams are coming up. I think Shiori and I will leave now; we'd rather not hold you back from a pillow because of us," said Ren, getting up from his untouched tea.

Mishima nodded.

"Yeah, OK. I'll see you around, Ren. Shiori. Goodnight," said Mishima.

"Night," said Ren.

Shiori got up too. Mishima looked up at her expectantly.

"Goodnight, Mishima," said Shiori.

Shiori did not say anything until they were back in Yogen-Jaya. They stopped in front of Leblanc café. The café's interior was distinguishable - cosy lighting showing a couple of customers and its owner. Sojiro caught sight of the two standing outside and waved; Shiori half-smiled, waving back.

Shiori commented, "Mishima's got a bit of power over us."

"Get why I wanted you there? It wasn't just because he asked. I wanted you to understand first-hand how Mishima complicates things," said Ren.

"You meant to do more than you're admitting, Ren. You also want me to hand little 'treats' to Mishima, to keep him calm. Like me giving him attention and other cheap trinkets of 'friendship'."

"You don't sound mad."

"Is there a point for that? No, I'm not angry at you. This is the guy who leaked your criminal record on Kamoshida's whim, just so he could play fucking volleyball. However, I need you to promise me something," said Shiori.

"What?" asked Ren; his finger brushed over the dew-laden plants Sojiro kept at the front. The light-kissed droplets on a large yellow flower, vortexed like a starry galaxy over the curlicue petals.

"Don't ever – try to hide even the smallest details about anything, ever again. Like what you did today. I am not a fool. I will see through you, no matter what you hide – no, stop that," Shiori grabbed Ren by the chin, turning his face down to her.

"Give me your full attention, Ren Amamiya. I don't like sharing."

They both quieted. Passerbys would glance curiously at the two teenagers, their side silhouettes stark against the diffused yellow window light of Leblanc, divided by thin black lines; the window panes.

Shiori pressed a finger onto Ren's chin. The sharp nail dug onto the vague stubble

"Promise me," she said.

"I can't do that, Shiori. Even I have secrets to keep," said Ren.

"Then at least give me your word, you won't hide anything that involves me."

Shiori's nail had indented a small red line. It had to be the chin, thought Shiori. The lips were another's territory and a mark there would raise unneeded questions. Ren's eyes widened a slight, realising this must mean a lot to Shiori if she was pushing so close to boundaries.

". . .you have my word," said Ren.

* * *

On the double-sized bed, Hifumi forced herself to lie on the side facing the wall. Her phone's charger was not long enough to lie on her right shoulder, her preference, while she messaged her friends and boyfriend.

_Goro: How was your day? _

Hifumi thought about it. It had started raining while walking from the train station. She arrived home, tired and drenched. Her father immediately asked for her help in setting up the living room for guests. Friends from the golf club (although these days her father was too sickly to go there) were coming over.

Once she was done, Hifumi quickly grabbed a snack to refuel, but then her mother arrived home. It started off polite enough, mother and daughter talking about normal things until the topic went to magazine shoots and shogi; where the argument started. Losing her appetite, Hifumi stormed out of the kitchen - her mother's screams being hurled at her back. The guests were staring, her father embarrassed.

Afterwards, Hifumi took a respite shower then hid herself in her room, before being forced back into the kitchen to help out with dinner.

The meal was a cold affair. Little was said, aside her father's occasional naïve bantering. Hifumi barely ate, wanting to get out of there quickly.

Hifumi tugged the blanket up higher. She felt feverish, cold - and her Persona writhing inside her restless, was not helping either.

 _Probably from the rain_ , thought Hifumi.

_Hifumi: It was good. _

_Hifumi: But I'm feeling tired right now. _

_Hifumi: Goodnight **( ˊᵕˋ ) .°⑅** _

There was a knock at the door. Hifumi lightly gasped, turning off her phone screen before she could see Goro's reply. She hid her head under the blanket with only a small rhombus opening of where her pillow ended. The door opened. Hifumi saw light stream on the wall.

Was it her mother or father?

Hifumi waited. The door closed. Nothing more was said. Must have been mum.

Hifumi waited a few seconds then unlocked her phone to read Goro's perfect boyfriend reply. His words were always very perfect, as if written by an Oscar-winning scriptwriter who was caricaturing a great boyfriend on page. It was sometimes strange, but she did not mind.

Hifumi idly scrolled through her other WhatsApp pages. Lots of fluff, so her eyes were drooping into sleepiness from the uninteresting. Then her finger stopped scrolling. What is this?

Hifumi opened the page link which took her to a social media page. Her lips opened with troutlike surprise of being hooked. She read the forum posts. These allegations, these stories. . .what is this? Hifumi re-read the highest voted post that was there.

". . . _The Phantom Thieves changed my ex's heart_. . ." she whispered.

Hifumi sat up on her bed.

* * *

 **Got held back a little by this one-shot I wrote (still surprised I indited something like that lmao). Updates should feel a bit more regular from now.**


	22. Prosopopoeia Peer Pressure

.

Dust particles spun in their fragile floats, tiny orbits in the blushful blue moonlight which filtered through the warehouse skylight. These beams of light caught the head of a young detective, shading a chromatic mauve effect on his otherwise brown hair. The outliers of dust specks settled on his head, rounding a miniature hint of a halo. A halo on the head of someone doing the Devil's work.

Goro bobbed down, re-checking the pressure valve on the methane tanks for the second time that hour. The cylinder tanks had been steadily dissipating the stuff well enough that puddles of it were forming on the dusty floor.

Waking groans of pain started behind Goro.

Goro straightened up. Behind him, a figure stirred on a wooden chair, his head covered by a brown rucksack. Cuts and bruises criss-crossed the captive's body. The victim's clothes were ruined, as if mauled by three men who ambushed him in a public washroom.

This was precisely true.

"Very good. It would seem you're awake now, Endo-san. I've been waiting," said Goro.

Goro pulled off the head-cover. Endo blinked, looking around the room. What is this place? Endo's bleary vision was slow to come into focus. Metal sheet walls, dusty tiles and the green aurora borealis? No. Endo blinked. It was merely a green 'EXIT' sign, above a door which was firmly shut.

A single bulb hung above where Endo sat. Where was he? Endo wondered. From outside, he heard the faint sounds of the ocean. Endo winced when he tried to get up. He gingerly felt at his chest, feeling broken ribs.

 _What did they do to me?_ Thought Endo.

Goro rounded to Endo's front and stood at attention, arms folded behind his back. For the first time, Endo realised he was not alone in the room. His mind was still a bit sluggish, probably from the head blow he took. Dry blood was caked on his hair. Endo studied this other person. The stranger seemed much younger than himself. An adolescent? He was dressed in a casual smart attire, as if having stepped from a talk show. Wait a minute, this guy looked familiar. . .

"Who are y-you?" Endo asked.

Goro smiled pro forma.

"I believe it would be more interesting if we asked; who are you, Endo-san?" said Goro.

Endo shook his head. There was a light ringing in his ears which made it a discomfort to think.

"I am Hisao Endo. An investigative lawyer who works at the government's anti-corruption body. You can check my I.D. It is. . ." Endo trailed off. Hold on a second. Was this about the current case he was secretly looking into?

". . .you. Are you one of Shido's people?" asked Endo.

Goro smiled widely. He began to clap, an applause muffled by those black gloves Goro wore.

Endo found the theatrics immensely unsettling. There was a falling sensation in his stomach, like a stone sinking in deep water, trailing up bubbles of panic blabbers which threatened to leave his mouth. Endo-san wanted to get up and run, but in his current state, would this person let him?

"Very good, Mr. Lawyer. It seems your skills aren't exclusive to finding out about politicians who receive illegal donations from the likes of Kaneshiro and Okumura. Yes, I am one of Shido's. . .to put it crudely, his 'henchman'. My name is Goro Akechi."

"Look man, whatever Shido has threatened you with, that's got you on his side, I can save you from all that with official protection-" Endo stopped, realising this was the wrong thing to say when Goro's eyebrow arched superciliously.

"Threaten? Me?" said Goro, his voice grinding a vibrato of infuriation.

Goro gritted his teeth. This little insect had no idea was he was capable of! Not even his father, Masayoshi Shido, knew what horrible things Goro had planned for him. The only person who badly needed protection was Shido himself.

Goro closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 _Breathe, Goro. He is ignorant. Just like the rest of the booboisie_ , thought Goro.

"There is no blackmail, Endo-san. Everything that I do for Shido, all those mental shutdowns I create, it is all of my own volition. _My own power_. Please note that distinction," said Goro, resuming his fake jolly-courteous tone.

Endo's eyes widened when Goro flourished a revolver from his coat pocket. Goro pointed the gun at the ceiling, turning it by its sides and admiring the metal's matte finish. The Smith & Wesson Centrefire revolver winked a silvery glint under the hanging bulb, turning the refracted light in Goro's brown eyes.

Endo began to shake. Lord have mercy. This maniac was going to execute him here.

"Now now, Endo-san. Please. Don't be scared," said Goro.

Goro tutted while loading a single .44 magnum bullet into the chamber. He clicked the barrel in and unlocked the safety pin. Endo blinked, realising there was a wetness on his cheeks. Tears mixed with once-dry blood.

Goro pressed the revolver into Endo's trembling hand. Endo gasped, looking up incredulously at Goro.

"Sshhh. There there. See? Now you have a gun. Here-" Those leather-gloved hands clasped around Endo's hand, the lawyer's fingers curling around the revolver's grip. Goro pointed the gun at himself then stepped back.

The gun stilled in Endo's hand.

Jingles. Goro held a ring of keys, swinging it around his index finger.

"These keys are your only way through the locked doors in this warehouse, Endo-san. The only way you're getting them off me is. . ." Goro knelt forward, that shaggy hair partially covering his eyes.

". . . _is if_ _you shoot me dead_ ," whispered Goro.

Goro's eyes focused past behind Endo's head. The methane gas tanks were still dispelling the flammable gas. In fact, the entire room was very heavy with it now. Unfortunately for Endo, the alkane was colourless and odourless, so he had no way of telling something was off.

One spark was all it would take to. . .

"Go on Endo-san. Pull the trigger," taunted Goro.

Endo brought up his other hand, tightly gripping the revolver. The lawyer's decorum had flipped like a coin, from a pleading victim, to contorted hatred. Goro liked that look in his eyes.

"I have never killed a man in my life. I'm not a murderer. I work a 9 to 5 white-collared job, working for the betterment of Japan so that no corrupt would take advantage of my fellow citizens," said Endo.

". . ."

"But you!" spat Endo, "You and that bastard Shido! And all those pricks who kiss his arse! All of you deserve to die! The way you trample on the innocent and violate human rights! It has no place in our modern world!" screamed Endo, spittle and blood splaying.

The barrel raised up to Goro's head. Endo's eyebrows hard angled in his conviction. There was quietness. Stillness. An intense spell of two souls locking gaze. Peering into the other's entire being for the last time. The spell was broken by a single word from Endo.

"Die."

Goro's form wavered as the trigger was pulled.

Ignition.

The bullet's primer exploded in the firing chamber, spinning inside the barrel and out with a spark✧ _._

A rose unfolded from the bullet. Red, white and blue petals; a multifoliolate fire-rose blossoming. The fiery flower expanded, hugging around Goro – or rather, where he once stood. The guy had disappeared, leaving the vague hollow form of a man, in the middle of the fire.

Endo had only a fraction of a second to process this. He did not fully comprehend how or why Goro disappeared. It was too late. The laws of chemistry were in motion.

The explosion took Endo's life and blew off the warehouse's roof.

One kilometre away from the chemical explosion, Goro rematerialized on a dark hill. He brushed off loose lint from the shoulder of his jacket and glanced back. An orange glow was in the distance. Burning.

 _Cutting it a little close these days, aren't we?_ Thought Goro.

While Goro was experienced with warping time in real life by initiating a delayed entry into the metaverse, this was the first time he tested his reflexes against the speed of a bullet. Not even 1,500 km/hr could kill him? Makes good data for unexpected threats in the future.

Goro's phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, Hifumi. Nice to hear from you, babe. . .Yes. Me? I'm good. I was just. . ."

A pause.

". . .I accidentally burnt some toast. . .No darling, I'm not in the middle of murdering someone, I assure you. . ."

* * *

 _Next morning._

The bathroom mirror was misty from the shower steam. Ann's fingertips touched the mirror, feeling its cool surface in the steamy washroom. Her turquoise nails gleamed like a 70s Chevrolet saloon car at a vinyl ice cream and diner, with roller-skating waitresses popping bubble-gum.

Ann scratched five thin lines, as if to peer through blinds, at the vista of her endless blue eyes. Though a bit red from crying in the shower, they blinked back at her, hopeful little things that believed today will be a good day.

The clear lines slowly fogged up again.

 _Time to get ready_ , thought Ann.

Her dress-up-for-school routine usually took ten minutes. Near-automated motions; un-pleating red stockings, onto her legs. Arms gliding into the soft sleeves of her hoodie. Ann closed her eyes, imagining a reverse of all this, only the hands removing her clothes were _his_.

A shuddered breath escaped her mouth. The apartment was near quiet when she swallowed, a wet fleshy sound that was audible to her; it made Ann imagine it could have been something else in her mini-fantasy. Then a news broadcaster's voice cut across the apartment, breaking Ann out of the illusion. Right. The TV was on.

Ann lightly tapped her cheeks. C'mon girl. Are you really planning on being sad and horny all the time?

 _Yes_ , came a rebellious thought.

"No!" she said aloud, to no one in particular. Although, the grooming products on her vanity dresser - skin creams, hair mousse and perfumes - stood facing her like the prosopopoeia of a sympathetic slice-of-life audience that was used observing Ann's predicaments. 'Get laid!' the body mist spray might as well yells. 'Ren doesn't stand a chance if you drop your hair!' says the comb.

Ann did the usual check-ups in the kitchen. Stove and other such were off - good. Her keycard was in her pocket - good. Ann would wince about the handful of times she did forget her apartment access card. Hassling days.

Ann picked up the TV remote and pointed it to the news segment that was showing.

" _. . .the poisoned deceased is Kishimoto Hayate, a twenty-eight-year-old who worked as a bartender in Kabukicho_ -"

Ann switched off the TV.

* * *

Makoto was affixing her headband when Sae knocked on the door.

"Yes sis?"

"Don't wait on dinner for me tonight, Makoto. I'll be home late," said Sae.

"OK. Do you want me to keep a dish in the microwave for you?"

Sae's voice was getting faint through the door.

"No that's fine. I'll be eating out. . ."

"All right. Have a good day!" Makoto called out.

No response.

Makoto stepped out, toes tipping on the blonde parquet. Sae was already gone. Makoto double-checked her presentation in the mirror then headed out to the kitchen, to get her bento. When passing through the living room, Makoto stopped in her tracks, piqued by the image on TV.

 _This man. . ._ she thought.

A police detective was speaking mute. At the top-right was a ghoulish photo of a man, with his eyes closed. Although the detective was dressed in civilian clothes, Makoto knew his occupation because she recognised him as her father's partner. He was there when Koji Niijima was killed by the mob.

Makoto un-muted the TV.

" _. . .the poisoned deceased is Kishimoto Hayate, a twenty-eight-year-old who worked as a bartender in Kabukicho_. _Hayate was reported missing by his brother, after the nightclub's owner reached out in query when Hayate failed to show up for work repeatedly._ _Detective Oshikawa has been assigned to head the case. . .police have yet to confirm if last night's incendiary death in an industrial area is linked to Hayate's death. . ._ "

Makoto's phone pinged. She blinked, tearing her attention away from Oshikawa. It was a message from Nakata. Something about the Culture Exchange Festival. Which reminded Makoto, she should be hurrying to the train station now. You could not be too early these days, with the mental shutdowns delaying commute lines.

At the train station, Makoto was still thinking about the murdered bartender. And Oshikawa. Makoto had seen him around a few times when her dad would arrive from work, to pick up some case documents or a change of clothes if it was going to be another all-nighter at the precinct. Oshikawa would accompany her father, speaking in undertones about whatever they were investigating. He was a tall man of thinning hair with grey streaks. Blue eyes that blinked too much. Koji seemed to like him well enough, based on how he spoke of his partner during dinners with his daughters.

Makoto sat inside the train but then got up and offered her seat to a pregnant lady who came in. The lady thanked her to which Makoto responded with a P.R smile, her eyes out-of-focus from the woman. Makoto's thoughts were rapid sinking to the heavy anchor that was her father's death, something that was brought by her habit of thinking too fast, before her emotions could catch-up.

Koji Niijima. The parent that died three years ago, leaving Sae and Makoto, orphaned.

X

Makoto never took him for granted. It was the scariest of feelings back then, to feel instinctively that the towering figure of her dad might one day vanish. Maybe it was because their mum was already not around, which brought that sensibility.

When Makoto was three, she would wait as close as she could to the door, for her dad to arrive home from work. On the nights when he was even more late, she'd sit on the carpet, right at the house entrance, a tiny thing with hunched shoulders. Occasionally, Makoto would look up at the clock, a divine circle to the child's eyes, who realised that when the shapes inside the circle was _this way_ , her dad was about to be home. Makoto memorised all the patterns in her staring, a gaze occasionally interrupted by Sae shaking her shoulders, scolding her for staying up late and telling her to go back to bed.

Koji Niijima looked after both his daughters well. But with Makoto, it was like she was the more fragile of the two girls. When shopping at the grocery store, Makoto would anxiously tug at her father's sleeve when another shopper unknowingly walked too close to her. Perhaps it was because Sae was older, smarter and tougher that she seemed independent, less needy for validations of parental love. Sae never got sick too. Not a cold or flu.

Makoto did get colds. Her dad would attend to her by the bedside, replacing the cold cloth on her forehead, not leaving Makoto's side until she was asleep. Whenever Makoto made a clumsy mistake with a dropped glass or spilling miso soup, her father's voice was always gentle and patient.

As Makoto got older, she began to understand the things she saw on TV. Koji was a policeman. And like many popular crime drama movies and TV shows, cops being in the face of danger was a common trope. What if dad was shot dead, trying to stop a bank robbery? What if he got hit by a truck like in the news, because the overworked driver fell asleep? What if terrorists killed dad?

To imagine such things hurting her father, frightened Makoto terribly. One would hear about tragedies happening to other people so often, it sometimes it felt like a separated world. Each day passed in mundanity, her sister and father were always there, not terminally ill or murdered. But what if it did happen. . .

Once, an eight-year-old Makoto climbed into her father's arms while they were watching one of those action movies. Makoto asked him to stop being a policeman because of her frights. Koji's laugh was a deep one, the affectionate sort an adult would make when a child would ask a fantastical question or request, like about Santa or visiting the moon. Koji assured Makoto that nothing could ever happen to him.

"Japan is a safe country. There never will be terrorist attacks here," he said to her.

His beautiful lie.

It happened when Makoto was fourteen. She was at Aikido practice when the dojo manager interrupted her sensei, who was observing the karatekas rehearse a kata. Interruptions were a rarity, which was why people were murmuring and watching curiously as the old man grimly muttered into sensei's ear. All the more reason why Makoto was surprised and confused when she was asked to step out of the dojo. Did she do something wrong? She asked. Sensei was only silent as he guided her out, away from the sight of the others, into the manager's office. Outside the office were these people in dark suits, their eyes were veiled by the aviator sunglasses. At that point, Makoto's guts were churning over the fear that she was going to be expelled from the dojo, for some unexpected reason.

Makoto wished that had been what actually happened. At least, her father would have been alive to scold her.

The breaking of the news was a vivid moment. Her sensei had sat her down on a chair and dropped to both his knees, holding Makoto's hands. This was highly out of custom, as teacher to student. A sensei never knelt to their pupil. Even his stern expression was gone, now replaced by a soft elderly kindness and sympathy. The office morphed into a teary blur when he broke the news. A moment of denial. Then the pain followed.

Sae was being called back from Switzerland, where she had been interning to finish her capstone project for the final year of university. As the flight was over twelve hours long, Makoto did not see her until the next day. The older Niijima sister did not sleep throughout. Both of them broke down upon seeing each other for the first time, since their father died.

Life changed forever after that. It was like a semicolon had been placed in the sentence that was Makoto's life; changing the course. That's what her father's death was. A semicolon that signified big change was coming. The first one had just happened.

Because there were already many impending expenses, tuition fees and livelihood costs, they had to sell the house and move to a small apartment. Mouldy smells in closets and slick grime on the washroom walls could have been what Makoto hated the most about the place. But it was actually the creepy neighbour who seemed insistent on convincing Sae that he was casting director for a horror slasher (where a victim would be tied to a bed). He only left them alone when Sae threatened to call the police on the grounds of harassment. The neckbeard never bothered them again, save for the occasional strange noises she heard through the thin walls that divided their homes.

Once, on one of the many nights Sae was working late, Makoto would stare at the dark ceiling, making out multiple male voices from the neighbour's unit. Recent events made Makoto pessimistic enough to believe a group of men might ambush and drag Sae from the neighbouring apartment to do horrible things; a dread which prompted Makoto to sit close to the door like when she was little, with the emergency number dialled ready. When Sae entered the apartment with no incident, she told off Makoto in her tired and stressed state, for staying up so late when she had exams tomorrow. Makoto wordlessly took the scolding, relieved on the inside that nothing bad had happened to Sae.

Erstwhile, a social worker made the arrangements and Sae officially became Makoto's legal guardian.

This period was hard for both sisters, but Makoto could see Sae was more burdened. Shouldering the recent death of her father who was killed in the line of duty, overseeing her little sister's needs were looked after and finishing her own formal education. Sae also officially broke things off with a guy she had been seeing in Switzerland. The stressful period made Makoto's sister go through induration.

When Makoto graduated from junior high, she transferred over to Shujin Academy, a senior high school which Sae topped, from academics to sports. The first day Makoto was there, some of the older teachers told her they taught Sae and expected 'the Niijima-comet brilliance' from Makoto herself. Around the same time, Sae managed to land a job at the Public Prosecutors Office, which greatly eased the strain on finances.

First week as a freshman was scary. Lockers banged too loudly, the principal was weird and people were being rowdy over the rumours that Shujin was getting an Olympic gold-medallist for a P.E teacher. Makoto hardly spoke to anyone at first, a meek strategy that earned the attention from a bullish group of girls who looked like they could play for a women's rugby team. Their Schadenfreudian interest in Makoto went on until week 2; a startled and scared Makoto was dragged into the boys' washroom, where they shoved her into a stall, intending to lock Makoto in so she would get in trouble with the school, when found.

Makoto was boxed-in that stall for about two minutes when two students in the adjacent stall got out to see what the shriek-ish jeers and laughter were about. It was a guy and a girl. Apparently, they had been making out in there until the vulgar commotion interrupted the mood. Makoto heard a deep male voice promptly telling them to "Fuck off" with an aggressive warning. There was a snarky reply, something about "a real man doesn't hit girls", followed by three consecutive _Smack!_ – which sent Makoto's bullies out the washroom, crying.

The door opened showing the two. The guy seemed to be a third-year, kinda big around the shoulders and arms. With him was a pallor girl who wore a smog-mask. She seemed uninterested in Makoto, rubbing her hand. Makoto specifically remembered the colour of her eyes. Cyber-violet.

"My fingers hurt. It's not used to hitting things," complained the girl.

"You mean those girls?" asked her ( _Boyfriend?_ Makoto naively assumed) male companion.

"Still things," she sang.

The third-year returned his attention to Makoto.

"You all right? I don't know your face, so I guess you must a freshman," said the guy.

Makoto stammered her thanks back at him and affirmed that she was indeed a first-year.

"Oh, so you're in the same year as Shi-"

The girl quickly clamped the guy's mouth. She blinked warningly at him, tugging at her smog-mask to remind the need for her anonymity since she was in the boys' washroom. Then she withdrew her hand.

"Shi. . .Shi. . .Shirou!" finished the guy.

 _That is a guy's name_ , thought Makoto.

'Shirou' sighed at her friend's poor improv.

"I'll see you this weekend, Toru," said the girl. She left.

The permanent diversion from a high school career of being trodden on by those bullies, allowed Makoto to comfortably settle into her flow – achieving excellent grades and impressing the teachers. There were some difficult days, most of them revolving around Sae being bitter and overly-controlling on what Makoto should do and **think** , but Makoto obediently complied, recognising the need to give all the appeasement Sae needed, for the sake of their livelihoods. Besides, Sae knew what was right for Makoto. Her older sister had been through this important leg of education already, she knew what was needed to get the grades required for entrée into a top university. At her sister's whim, Makoto quit Aikido classes.

Things got a little more interesting after that. After two exams, a few pop quizzes and being inducted into the student council, Makoto scored a number from the Shōnen Manga Cliché Bingo. A rival.

The girl's name was Shiori Oshiro and she had cyber-violet eyes.

Makoto completely underestimated Shiori at first. At first-glance, Shiori seemed like a chaste, diligent student who probably saved stray puppies or something. At least, that's how most of the others perceived her. But after three months of getting to know Shiori, Makoto decided she was a cunning, vicious wench who probably fed puppies to a meat grinder.

It started off with the little things. Sometimes beating Makoto in a test. Sometimes coming second, but with marks too close to Makoto's liking. Then the way Shiori would manipulate the people around her. Especially the boys! Poor creatures who did not notice the intentionality behind tiny strategies, like the hitching a skirt by an inch, to excite them, which would then later be used to build support for Shiori's kudos for being voted into the student council. Of course, Oshiro was also pretty, so she had that going for her.

With the girls, it started off with Oshiro being a sympathetic listener to the chatty gossip-monger girls who knew too many secrets. They poured scandals and critical information about the teachers and students. One week later, some guy would get slapped in the hallway, on being outed that he was cheating. Somehow, Shiori was _always_ the first one to descend onto these freshly heartbroken girls like a vulture, developing their emotional dependency on Oshiro.

From the sidelines, Makoto watched friendships since elementary school get destroyed, drama stirred, and teachers charmed all on her whim, all for whatever satanic plans borne inside that big head of hers.

How could people be so blind! Thought Makoto.

At the student council meetings, Makoto argued with Shiori a lot. At first, Makoto tried to be polite about with her. But then after being repeatedly challenged on suggestions, Makoto realised Shiori had ascertained herself to be a 'threat' and wanted to be seen as the superior first-year in the council (they were the only two freshmen). Their interactions became passive aggressive with a veneer of civility that covered a lot of anger. The verbal clashes once became loud, which prompted a library monitor to drop-in, complaining that it was getting too noisy next door. The president cautioned Shiori and Makoto to tone it down. It was not really a big deal, but Makoto felt really upset about being admonished in front of the others like that.

But that was not even the worst of what Shiori did to Makoto. Oh no. The evillest thing Shiori ever did was Jin. And if you swapped the names, it would have literally been true.

It started when a third-year basketball captain became friends with Makoto. Jin was tall, really cute and intelligent. Makoto would sometimes watch him at basketball practice and when it was over, they would compare study notes. For a sports jock, Makoto was impressed to see that Jin had beautiful flowing cursive. All his stationery was like something out of the Victorian aesthetic - dark ink, fountain-pens and red wax insignias. He was really good at writing Katakana too.

The two of them became good friends and in due time, Makoto knew she had a mild crush on Jin. That was when Shiori came into the picture.

It happened one Friday afternoon. Makoto and Jin were supposed to watch a movie that weekend, 'as friends'. Looking back to this incident, Makoto sometimes fumed over how she did not see through Oshiro's trap. Maybe she should have anticipated revenge coming from Oshiro, after she beat Shiori in the Trigonometry test and indirectly rubbed it in her face at one of the council meetings.

That day, school ended at 3:20 PM as usual. Students began their stampede to escape school, chairs dragging, bags slinging, texts being sent for after-hours plans. The seat in front of Makoto vacated fast. Which was when Shiori popped herself in-front of Makoto, who was still packing her pencil case.

"Whatcha' up to, Niijima?" asked Shiori.

Makoto suspiciously eyed Shiori. Usually, Shiori would be surly with her for at least a week, after losing out on first place in an exam. What did she want? Why the friendly banter?

"Just leaving for the basketball court-" Makoto broke off. Wait. Did Shiori know beforehand Makoto was on her way there? Did this have something to do with Jin?

"Oooh. Basketball? Didn't know you were into that," said Shiori.

". . ."

"You know, I didn't care much for basketball myself - not until I watched this anime _Kuroko no Basket_. I highly recommend it. But never mind that! Makoto Niijima and. . .a boy? Who would have thought Miss Perfect was into that," said Shiori.

 _En Garde, Makoto_ , she thought to herself.

This did have something to do with Jin.

"Jin is just a friend," insisted Makoto, although her words came out too slow and dragging.

Shiori noticed that too. Shiori slipped an evil smirk, an expression shared just between the two of them, before resuming her default demure composure. At this point, Makoto's heart was racing. All sorts of paranoid ideas were dancing in Makoto's head now.

"Might I ask who told you this was a 'date'?" inquired Makoto.

Shiori did not seem interested in snitching.

"Jin. . .you know, he seems to be kind of an idiot. But I was actually thinking, I'd ask him out. Maybe we'd date for a few months, then I'll break his heart once I'm done using him. Since he's thick in the head, he would _never_ see it coming. Then maybe I'll date his best friend just to spite him," said Shiori.

Makoto was appalled. Her mouth hung open at Shiori's brash opinion of her friend. How could Shiori say those things about such a decent guy-

"Anyway, I'm heading home. Catch you later, you derp," said Shiori, winking at Makoto.

Confused, Makoto watched Shiori leave the classroom. Outside, Mizuki - a known confidante of Shiori's, had hung back for her friend.

 _Wait a minute. Is that all?_ Thought Makoto, unsettled.

Shiori joined her friend Mizuki outside and they went on their way. Shiori did not even look back at Makoto, as if she had just been casually remarking about the weather to Makoto just now.

 _Never mind. I need to warn Jin about what Shiori intends to do to him!_ Makoto thought.

It was a conscientious effort not to run in the halls to the school's gym. Makoto was stressing. What if Shiori was already there, working that thot black magic on Jin? What if Shiori already asked Jin out? What if Jin said. . .

 _No_ , thought Makoto.

She hastened her already brisk walk.

Makoto was almost gasping when she entered the gym. The basketball team was practising as usual, passing the ball to each other in repeated drills. Makoto's eyes scanned the court. Jin was not there, where was he? Makoto sided to the bleachers. Oh! There he was! Sitting there all alone.

 _Why isn't he practising with the others?_ Wondered Makoto.

Makoto approached Jin. As she got closer, Makoto noticed Jin seemed to be in deep thought. As if wrestling with a problem in his mind. Was something bothering him? Makoto hesitated.

"Hey Jin," she said.

Jin's eyebrows woke up from thought. Jin looked up at Makoto, blinking up at her as if he was not sure who she was. Then he smiled, a faltering one, yet a smile nonetheless.

"Makoto. What's up?" said Jin.

Makoto sat down next to him. She scanned the gym around one more time. Shiori was not here. Makoto did not think Shiori had been here. If she did arrive here first, Shiori would have passed Makoto on the way out, given the way the school layout was. But Makoto had not seen her.

"Just excited for tomorrow's. . .umm. . .movie," said Makoto.

Jin nodded. His eyebrows were furrowing.

"Yeah. . ." Jin said slowly.

Makoto's breath hitched. What was going on?

"That's still on, right? Is something wrong? You're not practising with the others," said Makoto.

Jin did not reply. The guy looked like he was struggling with something he did not understand. Or believe.

 _I should at the very least warn him about Shiori_ , thought Makoto.

"Look umm. . .do you know this girl named Shiori Oshiro?" asked Makoto.

Jin seemed aplomb. He leaned back, resting his elbows on the elevated bench behind him in a relaxed posture. But his face had a serious expression, which was not like him.

"I do. She's in your class, right?" said Jin.

"Yes. Look Jin, you need to be careful around Shiori, OK? She's planning on doing all these bad things to you, like breaking your heart then dating your best friend. Also thinks you're an idiot too," said Makoto.

". . ."

"Did you hear what I said?"

Jin muttered something.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wish I did not hear that, Makoto. I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were a good person. Is our friendship that cheap to you?!" said Jin. He sounded bitter.

Makoto was bewildered. What was he going on about? Makoto warned him about someone who was going to hurt him. What was so bad about that?!

"I don't understand, Jin. I'm not lying. It's true, Shiori-"

"I know, Makoto. She told me," said Jin - his voice was cracking a bit, as if Makoto was the one who hurt him.

"Told you what?!"

Jin unlocked his phone and opened the IM app. Then he clicked on the conversation marked 'Oshiro Shiori'. Jin handed his phone to Makoto. The chat log read:

_Shiori: -on top of being a nice guy, I've been wanting to ask you out for a while now, Jin_

_Jin: Whoa…for real? _

_Shiori: For the realest of reals. _

_Shiori: But since you and Makoto seemed like really good friends _

_Shiori: I thought I'd speak to her first. Like you know, get her permission to date you, just to see if she was cool with it _

_Shiori: So I did _

_Shiori: (◞‸◟；) _

_Jin: What's wrong? _

_Shiori: I don't think it will work out, Jin. Maybe we should end it here :c _

_Jin: Why? What did Makoto say? _

_Shiori: . . . _

_Jin: Just tell me _

_Jin: I insist _

_Shiori: She got all nasty, Jin. She told me she'd tell you terrible things about me, like make you believe that I think you're an idiot. Or that I will cheat on you with your best friend, cuz I'm a slut _

_Shiori: It was really hurtful to hear her say those things _

_Shiori: I don't know why she was like that. Maybe she was jealous. _

_Shiori: (◞‸◟；) _

_Jin: No way _

_Jin: That does not sound like Makoto _

_Jin: She would never do that! _

_Shiori: I wish this could have worked out _

_Shiori: I'm sorry _

_Jin: ….Makoto wouldn't…. _

_Jin: I'll talk to her after this _

_Jin: I'm sure this has all been a miscommunication between you and her _

The end of the chatlog read '3:19 PM'. Shiori sent all these messages one minute before she spoke to Makoto at the classroom, to plant the bait. Astonishment; dumbfoundment. Then for the first time in living memory, Makoto swore:

"This bitch. . ." she whispered.

Shiori played her like a fiddle.

Jin heard a different context in Makoto's whisper. He grabbed the phone out of Makoto's hands.

"You know, I did not want to believe her, Makoto. I guess I really am an idiot, huh? Except you're the one who nearly fooled me. But now you've been busted red-handed," said Jin.

"Jin, it's not like that. . ."

"Save it. We're done talking. Ever. So you can forget tomorrow's plans too."

That afternoon, a Makoto Niijima of contained stormy rage walked around the school asking for Shiori's whereabouts. Most people (startled by Makoto's creepy dead tone) did not know, until one guy by the canteen said that Shiori left for the train station ten minutes ago. Oshiro was lucky she did not stick around. Makoto would have shown her eight years' worth of Aikido training in a very unpleasant way. . .

Days tumbled on, into rolling weeks and piling months. Despite everything, it was starting to feel like normalcy was returning to Makoto's life. Sae's career advanced with a pay raise and they were able to move into a much comfier home. The second year of high school began. Things felt bearable. Until the first mental shutdowns began.

Watching the news late at night, the siren lights of emergency vehicles echoed flashes of red and blue strobes in the dark living room. Makoto would stare wide-eyed at the dead people shown on TV. A chef went crazy in a restaurant and stabbed four people. There was a traffic 'accident' where a car ploughed straight into the busy intersection of crossing pedestrians. This was the beginning of something terrible.

A crawling sense of déjà vu crept into Makoto, making her toes curl in dread. This was just like those days when Makoto watched all those action cop movies with her dad, with people dying. Before tragedy took her father away. Was this new danger going to remove someone in her life?

Makoto tried not to show it, but she became anxious for Sae. Every morning Makoto tried her best not to upset her sister, so that Sae would drive to work with a clear mind. None of the experts seemed to know the cause of the mental shutdowns, but many of the populace believed it was because Japan's workforce was stressing and numbing itself too hard. Makoto hoped this danger would be removed from her personal life and took whatever superstitious steps she could to prevent it.

Nothing happened to Sae. Yet in a way, the mental shutdowns did reach Makoto's personal life.

That school week was supposed to be a typical mid-term. It was a Tuesday when the school assembly was called for; an announcement that two Shujin students were implicated in a mental shutdown as victims. When they said Shiori's name. . .some of her classmates glanced back at Makoto, curious for her reaction.

Makoto showed none. She felt nothing. As details rolled off that Shiori Oshiro was in critical condition, fighting for her life in the hospital, Makoto did not feel remorse, guilt or satisfaction. All Makoto could think of was how the world's chaos reached her the second time. The last time chaos touched, there was a semicolon in Makoto's life. An event that drastically changed how she lived.

Ever since Shiori nearly died, Makoto superstitiously believed that something was coming that would mark another turning point for her.

X

. . .now here she was. Makoto sat at her seat in the classroom and waited for the homeroom teacher. The impending change had not yet happened to her but Makoto knew it was around the corner. Shiori's return to school. That transfer student, Amamiya. Suzui killing herself and Kamoshida's confession. This investigation the principal impudently shoved on her. Tell-tale signs with occultic undertones. Makoto did not know what it was going to be but she had to be ready.

At least things were not all bad. Makoto still had Sae in her life. She was the top scorer in her final year, with no one close to match. And she was the Student Council President. Big and small comforts which tried to fill the hole her father left behind.

It had been ten years since her father told her nothing would happen to him. Ten years since he told her Japan is a safe country. Behind her, Makoto overheard students discussing the mental shutdowns.

The epiphany of how wrong her father was, could not sadden Makoto more.

* * *

 _10:05 AM._

During Mr. Inui's class, Ren was idly doodling spirals in his exercise book - a typical entr'acte between the sporadic times Ren would actually pay attention to the teacher, algebra, History, Ann's pigtails, diacritic letters, literature written by another dead sob, Ann's swaying, Newton's gravity, Ann's gravity. . .

". . .the great artist Madarame is holding an exhibition in Shibuya right now, isn't he? I've seen his works a number of times, back in my college day and goodness! They were magnificent! Even from that time, I knew Madarame was something else," said Mr. Inui.

"Is he supposed to be Japan's top artist, right now?" asked a student.

"Hey, musicians are artists too. All the J-rockstars are easily more popular that this old fluff," piped another, a spiky hair boy sitting at the front.

"Oh c'mon. One OK Rock is sooo three years ago," said a chatty girl, a slight lisp to her speech.

Did she have a tongue piercing? Wondered Shiori.

"That is blasphemy!" objected another student.

"All interesting points. What do you think-" Mr. Inui's eyes scanned the class, "-Oshiro-kun? What distinguishes an artist like Madarame, as opposed to a K-Pop star like Kim Hyuna or L'Arc~en~Ciel's Tetsuya? Do you think there is superiority to be found in either?" asked Mr. Inui.

A few heads turned to their corner, Ann included. Ren was still doodling, now trying out different sized whorls.

Shiori thought about it. Last night she checked out 'Ichiryusai Madarame' on a search engine. A real modern-day Picasso, this one.

"I'm not familiar with K-Pop, but the likes of Tetsuya, YUI, Utada Hikaru. . .I believe the main thing that separates them from artisans like Madarame is how power and money reacts to them," said Shiori.

"Oh? That's an interesting hypothesis. Could you elaborate?" asked Mr. Inui.

"You look at World War II, Europe. Administrative power like the SS Nazis went after paintings, sometimes pillaging, sometimes destroying. Adds to the long list for what people curse them for to this day, along with genocide and all that obvious stuff. Art is strongly ingrained in Europe's identity. And to control or harm a nation's identity is a power on its own-" Shiori paused, noticing some blank stares. Maybe she should low-brow it a little.

 _Let's dig into the ol' disdain for China_ , thought Shiori.

"-or let's say, we look at China. This year, their most famous actress Bingbing disappeared off the face of the Earth, for 'tax fraud' of all things. This primitive government-" Murmurs of approval. Mr. Inui smiled a little. Always has been easy to press people's racism buttons, "-does not like it when you're that famous artist carrying a nation's pride and identity, but in open-space, you're kinda defying the laws set by the 'absolute' power that is the Communist Party. They made a cold example out of her. When she re-surfaced, there was a really creepy P.R statement supposedly made by her, like ' _Without the Party and the state's good policies, without the love from the people, there would have been no Fan Bingbing_.' Notice how this actress defined the sum of her artistic efforts and somehow links the people's love and the ruling party, together. It comes back to power. If your art makes you become that famous in China, politics takes an interest in you," said Shiori.

"China is trash anyway. Those commie losers are so insecure about losing control they had to brainwash Bingbing. Or maybe she refused to suck some official's small dick," sneered the spiky hair kid from early.

That brought about raucous laughter from some of the students. Ren was completely removed from all of it. This little squiggle. . .

"Now now, settle down. Yes, very well explained, Oshiro-kun. The power dynamics in Japan are very much different. Unlike China, we treat our citizens with greater respect to the individual, but yes. It is very possible that Madarame has at the very least, earned some ties to powerful businessmen. Or even a politician!" said Mr Inui.

The teacher's eyes rested on Ren.

"By the way, you seem far removed from the arts, Amamiya-kun-" Ren raised his head, "-Do _you_ know who created the piece which sold for the highest price back in the 20th century?"

Ren almost answered instantly; only to delay when he realised it would have impulsively come off in a flippantly disrespectful tone to Mr. Inui. Ren was already in Mr. Ushimaru's bad books (the man's hand was a missile silo for chalks) despite his good grades. Ren did not want to cross Mr. Inui.

". . .Van Gogh," Ren answered in baritone respect.

Mr. Inui's head swayed back in surprise, but to Ren's relief, he seemed pleased.

"That's correct. It seems you know a thing or two after all. That piece was purchased for the equivalent of eighteen billion yen, and it sold for even more later. However, since the turn of the 21st century, a new record has been set practically every year," said Mr. Inui.

Classroom murmurs.

"Hey, did you know that? I had no idea!"

"Maybe Shiori-chan has been tutoring him. We see him hanging out a lot with her. Along with Takamaki and Sakamoto."

"I'm kind of surprised - oh shoot! Sensei is glaring!"

"People put a serious amount of passion and money into art. If I had that kind of cash, I wouldn't mind having a painting or two myself, heh. . ." said Mr. Inui.

Ren's phone vibrated.

_Ann: We're meeting at the train station, right? _

_Ryuji: That's the plan. Gotta discuss what to do about this Madarame fella _

_Shiori: Where's Morgana, Ren? I don't see him hiding in your desk _

_Ren: Out and about. _

_Ren: I suspect our Mona has taken an amorist. Possibly more than one, smh.. _

_Ryuji: Eh? _

_Shiori: He's fucking other cats, Ryuji _

_Ryuji: WAH! _

_Shiori: What's wrong? You seem a little flustered. _

_Ryuji: I'm nort! _

_Ryuji: Not* _

_Shiori: Right. That was your phone's autocorrect being rattled? _

_Ryuji: But Morgana?! Having sex?! How does that stupid cat get more action than me! _

_Ann: Are you a virgin, Ryuji? _

Ren grimaced. Some road this conversation went.

_Ann: Hahaha! _

_Ryuji: Well I'm…. _

_Ryuji: What are you laughing about?! _

_Ryuji: It's not like you're getting any right now! _

_Ann: Hey! _

_Ann: That's not MY fault you know (ಠ益ಠ)凸 _

Ren's fingers must have broken world records for fast texting.

_Ren: Morgana said he will meet us at the train station _

_Ren: We'll head to Shibuya then decide from there how to best approach this Madarame _

Ren jumped in his seat when Shiori pinched him from behind. She knew he purposely re-directed the conversation there.

* * *

With Morgana in Ren's schoolbag, the five of them got on the Ginza Line subway train. They found some free seats in a middle compartment and settled there.

"Phantom Thieves goin' by train. . .This ain't any different from how I get home from school, y'know," sighed Ryuji.

"What? You want sponsored limousines from Monster Energy?" said Shiori.

Ann picked out a strip of gum offered by Shiori. Ren and Ryuji declined.

"The train is the fastest way to go. Plus, we can bring pets on here," pointed out Ann.

"It is absolutely discriminatory how the government does not designate special seats for us felines," grumbled Morgana.

"Hush dude! We didn't pay the pet fare," said Ryuji, looking around nervously.

"Oh, how considerate of you guys," Morgana said sarcastically.

Morgana's 'meows' earned the attention of some little girl with tiny twin tails. She bumbled up to the gang, her eyes shining bright.

"Oooh, kitty!"

 _Er, shoot!_ Thought Ann.

"Is that your pet, Mister? I heard it meowing!" the girl asked Ren.

"It's a toy," said Ren.

"A sex toy for some cats," Shiori muttered to Ryuji, covering her mouth. They both began to crack up. The little girl tilted her head, mystified by the grown-ups' humour. Before the child's curiosity prodded, Ann hastily added to Ren's point. Wouldn't be fun if some adults busted them for cracking sex jokes in front of a kid here.

"It is um. . .a toy! It meows when you press on its head," said Ann, trying to give her best convincing smile.

The girl did not look too convinced.

Ryuji suppressed a guffaw.

"You heard her, Ren. Press its head," said Ryuji, grinning.

"This is ridic-" Ren palmed Morgana's head, "-M-mewww. . ." Morgana meowed uneasily.

A delighted gasp. The girl clapped, jumping on her heels.

"Wowweeeee! Again! Again!"

Purring filled the carriage when Ren rubbed Morgana's head gently. Shiori's smile faltered at the adoring scene; something tugged her attention from the corner of her eye. Shiori coiffed a hair strand behind her ear, the dark curtain opening to the compartment door at the carriage end.

A stranger was watching them from there, holding out fingers in a square, like a director vignetting a scene. She quickly turned back to the others. Ryuji too had noticed.

"He's fixatin' in our direction," muttered Ryuji.

"Who is he?" whispered Shiori.

"Not sure. I think that's a school uniform? There's a girl with him too. Looks like Kosei High School people. I know em' colours from the inter-school heats" said Ryuji.

Shiori stole another coup d'oeil. An evident detail registered at Shiori's longer observation. This guy had dark blue hair.

Ryuji quietly signalled to Ann and Ren, 'Something's up', subtly pointing a thumb at their stalker's direction.

 _What does a Kosei student want with us?_ Shiori thought, suspicious.

* * *

 **This chapter was supposed to cover up until the PTs checking out the Madarame Exhibition but Makoto's backstory buffed up the word count more than I anticipated. Shifted some and some to the chapter 23 document which will have lots of important stuff for this Madarame arc. Updates have slowed because I want to be super-sure of how I ease things with Ren and Ann (the next turning point for them is quite near) and not carelessly rush the quality.  
**


	23. Kurt Cobain

_._

 _Interrogation Room._

 _November. Two days after 'Echo Frost'._

Sae Niijima rubbed her eyes. This was difficult. Their captured Phantom Thief was not willing to say much. Other than the confirmation that whichever operative was responsible for the Phantom Thieves' capacity for deceit and unorthodox operations - was not the man or woman they arrested.

The dark silhouette that sat across the table was very still. It had been one of the first things Sae had noted about this person since the interrogation began. Most people would sway ever so slightly – whether standing or sitting. Normal human motions. Yet this one sat so frozen, so uprightly poised.

 _Like a Matryoshka doll. I wonder how many faces you hide_ , thought Sae.

"Do you even understand the magnitude of the crimes you've committed here?" said Sae.

". . ."

Sae unlocked her phone and opened the YouTube app. She did not even need to search the newscast she wanted to show. The video was already at the Trending subsection at #1. The entire world reeled in shock when this footage was posted. Sae clicked on the video and held her screen to the Phantom Thief.

The video feed started from a news helicopter. Night time. A tall skyscraper in revolution from the helicopter's encircling. The glassy surface gleamed like black diamond, wet and glittery. At the corner top of the building, red strobes of light-points blinked. Beneath one of these points was the signage – large LED letterings spelling out spikily, 'Ico Tower'.

The Phantom Thief raised its head. This was where it happened. Where two PT members were killed by one of their own.

At the bottom of the video was the header plate and moving ribbons typically seen in a news channel layout. The header plate read: "BREAKING NEWS: PHANTOM THIEVES ATTACK ICO TOWER".

Windows betrayed flashes from one of the floors. Like muzzle flashes from guns. Quite violently, a stalactite-like heart of ice burst from the from that same floor, sending shards of glass spray out in all four directions. Someone in the helicopter shouted, the aircraft swayed back to avoid the extending spikes of ice, gleaming in frost and. . .blood. People died when this ice spell was cast.

The moving ribbons gave snippets of information which read ' _Prime Minister Shido missing_ ', ' _ **Echo Frost**_ _prompts mobilisation of security ops'_ and most notably, ' _Phantom Thieves in civil conflict?_ '

' _Civil conflict'. What a funny way to call what happened with the team_ , thought the Phantom Thief.

Sae pulled back her phone.

"That's what they're calling the incident. 'Echo Frost'. Not sure who dubbed it that – I think the intention was to give it wordplay with Masayoshi Shido's 'Ico Tower' and the sudden burst of ice you saw in that video. Which is a curious thing-" Sae leafed through the document in front of her, pausing at a note, "-from everything we know of cognitive psience, the supernatural is supposed to stay contained to this 'other side'. While in the real world, only the psychological effects would be demonstrated. Well, Kunikazu Okumura's death aside. Why did this aberration happen at Ico? How were those icicles formed?"

". . ."

Time to try the empathy tactic. Sae leaned forward with two elbows on the table, her hands clasped under her chin, her two forefingers leaning against each other on her delicate lips.

"I know what you're thinking. You think you were on the right side of justice in all this. You think the Phantom Thieves were right, to do what they did to Japan. You think I'm the bad guy, right?"

The prisoner kept quiet. The two forefingers tapped against each other.

"That's not true. Prosecution and liberation. Sin and virtue. It's not always black and white. My father was a policeman, you know? He died during a 'raid' at one of the triads headquarters. It's how the public remembers him. It's how Tokyo Police wants the public to remember him, lest the scandal that a corrupt cop was in Kaneshiro's pockets, tarnishes their reputation."

Sae squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead louring between the eyebrows.

"Reading those internal reports, it was painful for me to find out that my father was not the good man people touted him to be. Yet when I learned about it, I understood why they lied about him. Not everyone can ingest the nuanced truth. . ." Sae thought about Makoto. It was so important that her sister's perfect image of their father remained protected. Makoto understood so little of the real world. This cynical world.

* * *

 _Present day._

It happened after school. Another unassuming trip in the subway with Kofuki, who was going on about dying her hair like a hollyhock; mix of pink and platinum blonde.

"I personally think the flower should have been called 'Hollyshock'. Think about it. It's like a shock of colour in Nosferatu's black and white world. The flower just stands out to everything else. . ." chattered Kofuki.

Yusuke saw his 'Hollyshock' when the train's P.A speakers said they were about to reach Shibuya. On reflex, he raised his head, eyes empty. The train slowed. Yusuke half-focused on a group of Shujin students sitting in the next carriage.

A moment of clarity. Like spidery frost melting away from clear glass to reveal the details.

Yusuke saw Ann. Colour shock and bloom.

#

The plan morphed from hanging out at Shibuya to walking to Inokashira Park. It was Morgana's idea.

" _For my trustworthy instincts tell me, if these two are indeed stalking, they cannot hide from us in a less crowded park. We'll ambush them there!" said Morgana._

When they arrived at the park, the five of them split up. Also, Morgana's idea.

" _This way, we will determine which of us they seek to harm!"_

Three minutes went by and Ryuji looked up from his Health Science textbook (probably the longest time he spent reading it since school started). He was sitting on a bench. Ryuji's eyes searched for the others. Ren was by the water fountain, pretending to tie his shoelaces. Shiori was by a bed of wildflowers, leaning in to smell their scent. Where's Ann. . .oh right, there she was. By the large cherry blossom tree, pretending to be on her phone. From the bushy branches, a black cat's wagging tail struck out.

" _I will be with Lady Ann! For my chivalry demands to be with the fairest of maiden during these uncertain times – I mean!" Morgana hastily added, when Shiori cleared her throat, "-you're also beautiful, Shiori!"_

Now was that weirdo still following them? thought Ryuji. His eyes scanned the park. Not there. Not there. Maybe they lost him.

 _Wait. No, we did not_ , thought Ryuji.

The blue-haired Kosei student was by the entrance of Inokashira Park. With him was the girl. Another Kosei student, by the looks of it. Ryuji unlocked his phone.

_Ryuji: Heads up. I think stalker-boy is onto us _

The others checked their phones. They all looked to the entrance.

_Shiori: **(( ゜◇゜)** _

_Shiori: …what the fuck. _

_Shiori: He really is following us _

_Ryuji: Or one of us _

_Ann: What do we do? _

_Ren: Stay where you are for now _

_Ren: If he approaches one of us, everyone group up _

Ryuji's eyes followed the stalker. Who was he going to? Shiori? No. He turned to the other path, branching to himself and Ren. Ryuji ducked his face beneath the textbook, but still watching. The stalker approached. Closer and closer. Ryuji's shoulders tensed. Then the stalker turned left. To Ren. Then left again. There was only one person in that way.

It was Ann he was after.

"Aw crap," said Ryuji, stuffing his textbook in his schoolbag and hurrying to join Ren.

#

Morgana squinted at this deviant that encroached on Lady Ann's space. He was right after all! Only one of them was the fiend's target.

"Fear not, Lady Ann. I'll get him before he lays a finger on you," Morgana whispered to Ann.

"Uh. . .what are you planning, Morgana?" Ann asked, chin-up at the tree.

"Are you talking to the tree?"

Ann looked back down.

It was the Kosei students. The blue-haired guy had been the one who spoke. Behind him was a girl, about his age. Judging by the dark roots, Ann guessed she bleached her hair like Ryuji – but with paler shades of platinum blonde.

Ann wrung the bottom of her hoodie. What did he want?

"Who me? No! Not at all!" said Ann.

The boy stepped closer to Ann.

"Not a step further!" shouted Morgana.

Yusuke saw the leaves above him rustle. A cat's head stuck out, fangs bared. It jumped down at Yusuke. Or at least, it tried to. Morgana completely missed Yusuke, landing face-first into the dirt.

Ann gasped.

"Shit. You OK, Morgana?"

Morgana rolled over, his eyes in a dizzy spin.

"Owww. . ."

Kofuki nudged Morgana, poking at his forehead. He was still seeing stars.

"I think your cat is broken," said Kofuki.

"Who are you again?" asked Ann.

"That's what we'd like to know as well," called out Shiori.

Shiori, Ryuji and Ren finally caught up.

"This is your concern?" asked Yusuke.

"We are Ann's friends!" piped Ryuji.

Shiori pointed a finger at Yusuke.

"I think you better explain yourself. We caught you ogling all the way from the train," said Shiori.

Yusuke frowned. Why did it matter to these people?

"I'm Kitagawa Yusuke. Your name is Ann? Ann. . .?"

"Takamaki," said Ann.

"That's a lovely name. This is my friend, Kofuki-"

"I'm Morishima Kofuki-" said Kofuki, stepping past Shiori and Ryuji, her eyes dancing starlight with Ren's reflection, ". . .my. Aren't you a cute one. You can call me Kofuki."

Up until now, Ren was lasered on this Yusuke approaching Ann. He almost did not notice the person with Yusuke. Ren did a double-take at this girl who was giving him the eyes.

". . .Hi," said Ren.

"Aha. You got something. . ." said Kofuki.

 _?_

Kofuki reached out to Ren's hair and plucked a fallen cherry blossom petal. She slipped the petal in-between her lips, swaying her head.

"This could be your dick, Ren," Kofuki said huskily.

Ryuji choked on air.

"How. . .do you know my name?" asked Ren.

Kofuki nodded to Ren's breast pocket. His probation diary stuck out, with the name label 'Amamiya Ren'.

 _Aren't you subtle_ , thought Shiori. This girl was coming in strong. Too clumsily, by Shiori's tastes.

"What did she just say. . ." said Ann. She only caught the word 'dick' and Ann wasn't liking it.

"Regarding why I'm here. I'm a painter of the Madarame Arts Foundation. I was on my way home from school when I saw you on the train. Won't you accept my proposal?" asked Yusuke.

"Proposal? That being. . .?" asked Ann.

"To be the model for the finest nude painting ever created!" declared Yusuke.

The metaphorical shattering of glass was audible only to Ren.

Ryuji folded his arms.

"You're kidding, right?" said Ryuji.

"He's not. Yusuke is an official artisan at the foundation. A very good one at that," said Kofuki.

Ann was speechless. There was also a touch of blush, rising up her neck.

"Well?" asked Yusuke.

". . .why the hell would I accept something like that?!" said Ann.

 _Why not?_ Thought Yusuke.

"Because. . ." began Yusuke.

Yusuke felt frustrated. How could he make Ann understand that seeing her for the first time, reignited that spark of a feeling he had not felt since he first saw Sayuri. The genteel warmth and beauty in that painting reminded him of his vague memories of his-

"Why not give them tickets to Madarame's exhibit? She might be convinced of your credibility then," suggested Kofuki.

"Yeah right. You just want Ren to be there," said Shiori.

 _Oh look. Another thot who knows our trade_ , thought Kofuki.

"Aha? So what if I do. Is he your boyfriend?" asked Kofuki.

". . .no. He's not."

"Then I don't see what's the issue, here," said Kofuki, wagging her finger at Shiori.

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Ren.

Meanwhile, Ann was torn in-between telling this bottle blonde to 'Get lost, he's taken!' (albeit Ann knew she was not Ren's girlfriend too) and nailing the lid on Yusuke's hopes of having Ann bare everything for him.

"Good idea, Kofuki. Here-" Yusuke retrieved a thin stack of what looked like tickets. His eyes considered Ann's companions and pulled out four from the rubber-banded stack.

"-tickets to the Madarame Exhibit. Won't you come? Even your friends. All of you are invited," said Yusuke.

Demurely peeking behind Yusuke's shoulder, Kofuki said to Ren, "I hope to see you there."

Ren carefully kept his face blank when Ann watched for a reaction. Don't give her an excuse to kill you here, Ren. Life is beautiful and full of many wonderful things to live for. Do not die young at the hands of a jealous Panther.

". . ."

"Even you, Kofuki? I didn't think you'd be interest– oof!" Kofuki jabbed Yusuke in the ribs.

"Of course-" jab, "-I'd be-" jab again, "-interested, Yusuke-kun," near-finishing move jab.

"Rrr. . .right," said Yusuke, clutching his poor ribs.

"I reeeaally love art. Especially private viewings," Kofuki added suggestively.

"Please do consider my proposition," Yusuke affirmed to Ann.

Kofuki slung up her bag and dimpled at Ren. The girl mouthed 'See you'.

Ryuji and Shiori tensed up, ready to pin Ann down if she leapt claws extended, at the Kosei student. Morgana got up, shaking his head like a drunk.

Yusuke and Kofuki followed the trail out of the park. Gone.

Shiori nodded to Ren.

"She wants your dick," said Shiori.

"Oh really?! What gave it away?!" snapped Ann.

Ren sighed.

"It's not a big deal, Ann. I'm not interested in Kofuki," said Ren.

The way Ann glared at him, almost made Ren swallow.

"That's a suspiciously low amount of energy you've put into that denial," accused Ann.

 _What the fuck?_ Thought Ren.

"What? Do you want me to write a song with denial lyrics? Pay for a billboard, screaming out ' _I DON'T LIKE HER_ ' out to you?" spluttered Ren.

"You know. . .I think we should go. It's like the stars are pushin' us to this Madarame. We came to Shibuya to discuss the guy and somehow, fate drops us tickets to his exhibition? Somethin's definitely up with this artist, if you ask me," said Ryuji, staring at the tickets in Ann's hand.

"We got tickets? Ryuji's right. This is our chance to get up and close to this Madarame," said Morgana.

 _You two don't realise how we have a complicated situation_ , thought Shiori, slowly backing away.

Ren and Ann were glowering at each other.

"I bet you want to go to this exhibit too," said Ann.

Ren knew what she was doing. Ann was trying to bait him into saying something - with even the slightest amount of positivity, about Kofuki.

 _Stay calm_ , thought Ren.

"I think we should. . .to get a closer look at Madarame. He could be our next target," said Ren.

Ann folded her arms. She raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"A closer look?" asked Ann.

"Yes."

"At who?"

"Madarame, of course."

"Not Kofuki?"

Ren scowled.

"Is there something you want to say, Ann?" asked Ren.

At this point, Shiori had distanced herself from the group, feeling off-putted by the heat emanating from Ann and Ren. She took adventure to hopping on the wooden posts by the pond.

"Me? Oh no. Nothing. What could _I_ possibly have to say?" Ann said, pouty.

". . ."

That pout softened into a hint of a coquettish smile.

"Although, you know what else would let us get a closer look at Madarame?" asked Ann.

"What?" asked Ryuji.

"If I really do agree to Yusuke's nude painting after the exhibit. _I mean_ -" Ann twirled one of her pigtails, innocent-like, "-it would help us 'get a closer look at Madarame' if we were allowed inside his atelier or something," said Ann.

Morgana tilted his head, paw on snout, like the 'Thinking Man (Cat?)'.

"You know. . .that sounds like a decent plan. It might even lead us to the location of his Palace, if Madarame has one," said Morgana.

"Wait wait. Hold on a sec'. You're talkin' about showing bare-skin to an almost-stranger, here. Are you going to be OK with that, Ann?" asked Ryuji.

Ren's nails were digging in hard into the harness of his messenger bag. Any harder, the fabric would start to tear.

 _Where's Shiori's voice of reason in all this?_ Ren thought irritated; he glanced back to the fence.

Shiori balanced on one leg, hips thrust out to the side. At each precarious hop onto the next post, the spring breeze availed to lift her skirt, albeit falling short of revealing her panties. To Ren's suspicion, he noticed a middle-aged father who was pushing a pram; staring out pond-side a bit too intently. Shiori did not notice her audience. Or maybe she did not care. The girl continued on with her child-like energy hops.

Ren turned back, rolling his eyes.

"Why not? Anything for the Phantom Thieves. I'm sure our leader would agree," said Ann.

On the outside, Ren seemed sang-froid. Inside, Ren was _this_ close to breaking down and admitting that he was not OK with Ann being the subject of a nude painting. Especially with this individual, Kitagawa.

Ren had gotten used to seeing the boys and other men in Shujin and Shibuya look at Ann and Shiori in many lascivious ways. Eyes narrowing at the scoop of the T-shirt neckline, almost-guilty squints from the corner of their eyes, discreet patting downs at their boners. Some even stared with their tongues almost lolling out.

With Shiori, Ren felt that slight instinct of protectiveness around her. Not in a jealous way, but that he did not want any of these walking sausages crossing established boundaries with his friend or making her uncomfortable in any way. Next to that, Ren took no qualm with Shiori flaunting her sexuality, those careless spills of femininity and mystery. Twirls and flipping of dark hair.

It was almost the same with Ann. But more. More and more and more. What Ann said to Kamoshida, when she tore off her mask for the first time, gave Ren a lot to think about. Much verbal and emotional rocks were pelted at Ann, before she found self-acceptance about her inherent physical beauty. Ripping off her mask to reveal the Persona; opera's greatest lover who chose death over letting any man stop her from embracing her own sexuality. There was no accident to the way Panther's suit was.

Ren recalled the salt and blood when Ann's siren imitation almost killed him. His unwitting ballad in basketball court. Comforting her in a bookstore, as the sky rained with Ann's cheeks.

And saying the most hurtful of things to her, before they stole Kamoshida's heart.

Ren realised that Ann had forgiven him for that, before he even got his apology out. The kind heart that gets hurt by those she cares for - yet forgives over and over. Ann had confided in Ren that she sometimes felt like a weak person. Ren thought that she was a strong person for that trait alone. Ann was so lovely in that way, she did not know it herself. But Ren could see that in her.

As did Yusuke.

And that's what bothered Ren the most. Not merely for the fact that this was a matter of painting a bodacious figure, but Ren could see in Yusuke's lit-up eyes, that he saw also saw Ann's core nature with that expert artisan gaze of seeing through geometric curves and facade. That – was the source of Ren's jealousy.

Ann stepped closer to Ren. She placed her hands on her hips, eyebrows wagging. Another smile, this time with diabetic sweetness. Carmen might as well be possessing her right now.

"Well Ren? You also think I should do this painting, right?" she asked him.

This was when Morgana and Ryuji finally caught up to the hidden context in all of this. Both their heads turned in unison, from Ann to Ren.

Morgana's whiskers twitched. These human expressions. . .is this what they called pride?

Ren had two choices. Admit what Ann wanted him to admit. Or shoot himself in the head and die. The latter had a technical issue of there being no firearm in sight ( _Hmm, that bench looks mighty sturdy. Maybe I can concuss myself_ , thought Ren) however.

"Eeek!"

 _Splash!_

"What was that – whoa. Shiori?! You OK?!" asked Ryuji.

The others saw what happened. Ann gasped.

Where Shiori once stood hopping on the short fence posts, was empty air. Beneath was foaming water as Shiori thrashed and swam to the surface, coughing and spluttering.

Escape route!

"We better help, Shiori," said Ren.

"Let's," agreed Ann.

They all helped pull Shiori out of the water.

"You alright?" Ann asked her.

Shiori looked miserable on the park bench, dripping wet from hair strands and drenched uniform.

". . .yeah. Not sure how I slipped-" Shiori held up a socked foot, "-the stupid pond took one of my shoes as a sacrifice."

Morgana pawed at Shiori's nose, gleeful.

"Hehehe. You should be more like me and stay away from water," said Morgana.

Shiori could only sulk.

"We should probably get you home before you get sick," said Ren.

Ren took off his blazer and covered Shiori with it.

"Thank you. . .sorry for disrupting today. I know we were supposed to talk about Madarame," said Shiori.

"Don't beat yourself up for it. We just have to decide for now, if we're going to this exhibit. Well leader?" Ryuji asked.

"This is immediately after exams, yeah?" asked Ren.

"It is," said Ann.

"Then we're going," said Ren.

* * *

 _Leblanc Café. 7:56 PM._

Ren landed at the foot of the stairs, rubbing his damp hair.

"Hey. You heading out?" asked Sojiro, from behind the counter.

 _He looks more like the probation juvenile he is, without his glasses. Hair still wet messy from the shower_ , thought Sojiro.

"Hey boss. Yeah, just in a bit to Shiori's place. Want to check up on her," said Ren.

Since there were no customers around, Ren allowed himself a relaxed conduct. Ren left his glasses on the counter and went to check the fridge for any leftover curry pot, from the day.

"Did something happen to her?" asked Sojiro, concerned.

Ren's head popped over the fridge door, holding a dish of spicy chicken curry. He closed the fridge with a hip bump.

"She fell into Inokashira Park's pond-" Ren set the curry and rice in the microwave and selected 'Reheat', "-it was an accident," Ren added.

"Oh?" Sojiro twirled his goatee.

 _Oh?_ Thought Ren. That was not a normal 'Oh'. There were plenty kinds of 'Oh's. The way Sojiro pronounced this one had a kind of meaning behind it.

"What is it?" asked Ren.

"Inokashira Park. A lot of couples go there, from what I hear," said Sojiro.

The microwave's _BEEP_ punctuated Ren's 'Are you for real?' silence. Ren took out his dinner.

"I don't disapprove, you know. Shiori is a nice girl. Always polite. Raised by good people too. I'd say you've done well for yourself if she's your girlfriend," said Sojiro.

"She is not my girlfriend," said Ren.

 _And she's not always nice as you might think_ , thought Ren.

The old man did like Shiori a lot. Shiori had been over here a few times since she became Ren's friend. Occasionally, she'd stop to chat with Sojiro out of courtesy. The girl had a way of being charming to the adults, exuding an air of responsibility and maturity.

Ren sat down at the counter and began to eat.

"Then who is that I see you smiling for, when you look at your phone?"

The fork paused on its way to Ren's mouth.

"I watch you closer than you think, you know – what's wrong? Does the curry taste bad?" asked Sojiro.

Ren sat his fork down. Was it showing on his face?

 _Today must have upset me more than I thought_ , realised Ren.

"The curry's fine. . ." mumbled Ren.

Sojiro was nonplussed by this reaction he had gotten out of Ren. At Ren's orientation at Shujin, he did not show the slightest vexation of being dunked on by those adults (himself included). It gave Sojiro the idea that nothing got under Ren's skin.

Except this mystery girl, apparently.

 _Hoo boy. Must be a real dame to shoot this one out of the_ _sky_ , thought Sojiro.

Sojiro sighed. He rolled back his sleeves and rested his forearms on the counter, leaning to Ren.

"You're having trouble with a lady. Girl problems," said Sojiro.

". . ."

"Go on," said Sojiro.

"Huh?"

"Tell what the problem is. Maybe I can lend you some advice."

Ren blankly stared at Sojiro. The words 'WHY?' might as well been written all over his face.

"Listen up, kid. No assistant barista of Leblanc Café is going on a losing streak with a woman's heart. I got a reputation here to maintain and you need to be nothing short of a lady's man for this café," Sojiro said gruffly.

This was a lie. Sojiro genuinely wanted to help Ren out. He just did not want to come across like he cared personally about Ren's troubles (which he did).

Ren swallowed Sojiro's explanation without a second thought.

"R-right. I'm sorry. . ." said Ren.

"Well?"

". . .we're not. . .really dating right now. I think you should know that," said Ren.

"Why is that? Don't you like her?" asked Sojiro.

That question made Ren nervous. He looked around the café, half-expecting Ryuji's head to be sticking out at the top of a booth, while someone whispered angrily for him to stay down.

". . .I do like her. Rather too much," said Ren.

"Too much? What does that even mean?"

"It means, I sometimes wish I did not have these feelings for her at all. But it's hard to just un-like her! And now there's this other guy that has entered the picture and-"

Sojiro held up a hand.

"Wait wait. Back it up a bit. You wish you did not like this girl? Why would you want that?!"

The curry looked un-appetizing now. Ren's fingers pressed harder against the fork.

"Because. . ."

"Yes?"

"Because I'm an asshole!"

Ren pushed his plate and got off the stool bar, pacing. Sojiro was astonished Ren's unexpected outburst.

"Kid. . ."

"Maybe you know the type, Sojiro. She's already been through so much. You remember that guy you saw on TV? Suguru Kamoshida. The abusive teacher from Shujin?"

Sojiro's forehead loured. How was that tangential? He slowly nodded.

"She went through a period where she had to struggle with that. . .that scum's harassment and emotional blackmails. All while the rest of the school ill-treated her for his advances!"

"Did you stand up for her?"

"What? Oh – yes. I did. It's just. . ."

 _It's just I'm on a warpath to Masayoshi Shido, even if it means twisting myself into something dark. I've already hurt Ann once because she tried to stand in the way of my Phantom Thief goals. It could happen again if she tried to stop me in my revenge. Our relationship would become a carnival carousel of pain and condonation until I damage her so bad, she'd no longer the person she is now. . .I don't want to take that away from her. It would be no different than what Kamoshida could have done to her. . ._

"What?" asked Sojiro.

". . .it terrifies me," whispered Ren.

Sojiro scratched the back of his head. Man, these teenagers took life way too seriously. Kid's head must be overloaded with melodrama and hormones.

"Correct me if I've misunderstood this 'problem' of yours. You like this girl."

"I do."

"She likes you back. A lot, I'm presuming."

"Yes."

"And when people were treating her like crap, you were the one who stood up for her. . .and I suppose, you saved her from this sexual predator?"

". . .yeah."

Sojiro looked at Ren like he was an idiot.

"Yet somehow, you think you're bad for this person," said Sojiro.

"You're kinda oversimplifying the situation-"

"Am I? It sounds to me that you're overthinking this. Do you really think you're going to do something terrible to her. . .or is it just that, you care for this girl so much, that you're shutting yourself down before even giving this a chance?"

". . ."

"How old is she?" asked Sojiro.

"My age. Sixteen."

"I think the miss is old enough to decide what's good and what's bad for her. Don't you? Both of you are young adults. Have you stopped to consider that things might go the other way around? That she would be the one changing your hooligan butt? For the better? Shit kid. Look at your face. She's got you good already."

Ren had not considered that.

Sojiro nudged the plate of curry back.

"Sit down. Eat. And hear me out," said Sojiro.

Ren meekly complied, embarrassed by his earlier outburst.

"I've passed by many amorous men and women in my lifetime. Seen many happy endings for these people. Many heartbreaks too. Some of them were in this café. You'd be surprised by the number of life stories that were spilt over to me, after a nice cup of affogato and a half-hearted ear to lend."

Sojiro held up a clear glass to the light. He wiped off a light blemish.

"Listening to them, the men especially. . .the most common screw-up was because they had some silly idea cooked into their head which made them hesitate or wait too long. 'The one that got away' as the saying goes. They all believed they were right to hold back. Guess what? Time passes by and every single one of them regretted it. Altruism was common trope for those heartbreaks. You don't want to be that guy."

Sojiro waited for Ren to finish his dinner. Ren was still looking miserably down at his plate when he was done.

"You mentioned there was another guy?" asked Sojiro.

"Some hipster from Kosei. He wants to paint her. _Nude_. Can you believe it?"

Sojiro was getting more and more curious about this young lady who had enamoured Ren.

"Oh-ho? She must be quite attractive to be prompted for that," said Sojiro.

"Yeah. She's a model," the more Ren spoke, the more stupid he was starting to feel now. What was he thinking? Any other guy would feel lucky to date, Ann. And here he was letting Shido cockblock him.

 _Maybe I've been wrong. The whole point to getting revenge from Shido was so I could move on with a normal life again. What would be the point in fighting for that, if I'm denying myself with those I care for?_ Thought Ren.

Still. The thought of opening up to Ann, scared Ren. After mum, dad. . .his ex-girlfriend Kyoko, tossed him away when the charges were laid. Kyoko truly did not believe him. None of them did. The fork trembled. Never again. He was not going to make that mistake again. Not even with. . .

 _"Some falls are higher than the others. What if he's scared of heights?"_

 _"I promise to catch him."_

Lies. It was all lies.

Swallowing food suddenly felt difficult. Inside his heart, Arsene keeled over, a storm striking down on his Persona in the courtyard.

"Thanks for the advice, boss," said Ren, hurriedly getting up.

Ren avoided eye-contact. At the sink, as Ren was washing his plate, he blinked into a blurry vision. Ren wiped his eyes at the sleeve.

"No problem. I'll be heading home now. Be sure to lock up."

"I will!"

The pitch in Ren's voice was all wrong. That told Sojiro enough.

The door's bell chimed. _Schick._ A lighter flame conjured. Sojiro lit his cigarette. Sojiro stopped and looked up to the sky. Crescent moon tonight – like a sad mouth. A cloud of smoke greyed out the moon.

 _Rain away,_ thought Sojiro, even though the sky was clear of clouds. He knew what was happening in the café.

Curls of smoke followed Sojiro as he walked home. He remembered something Wakaba once told him.

" _That's the thing about children. They're like clear glass. No matter how carefully the world may try to handle them, you'll always get fingerprints on them. Some even get scratched. The unfortunate ones. . .crack or shatter completely."_

As Sojiro passed by Yongen-Jaya's cinema, he noted that Shiori was a victim of a mental shutdown.

 _There's one who might have a crack or two_ , thought Sojiro.

* * *

 _Twenty minutes later_.

In 1979, a portable cassette player called the Sony TPS-L2 Walkman, rolled off the assembly line and was sent to an electronics store in Osaka. There, the cassette player was purchased by Shiori's grandfather. Since then, it has playbacked through many songs and memories.

Tonight's memory was a girl curled up on a futon mattress, sleeping. She was wearing a large woolly sweater and her underwear. At the long sleeves, her fingers curled in like a kitten's paw; nestled against her cheek. An earphone rested in her left ear, playing Nirvana's _Come as You Are_ from the cassette tape. The vocals of the rock star who killed himself, serenaded in a low lullaby for Shiori.

Morgana was curled against Shiori's butt, asleep himself. The positioning would seem funny to others, but he found it was warm sleeping there.

Low voices came from the stairs leading up to Shiori's bedroom.

"Are you sure it's alright? If she's resting-"

"It's fine, Ren. I'm sure Shiori would not mind," whispered Shiori's grandmother.

Ren tentatively stepped into Shiori's attic-bedroom. He had been here a few times before, but never at the hours of dark. The light was a warm yellow.

 _Even Morgana's hit the sack_ , thought Ren.

Around Shiori were her school exercise books. Did she like to study on the floor? Wondered Ren.

The floor felt cold against Ren's feet. He should probably find a blanket. Ren grabbed a duvet from Shiori's bed and gently tucked it over her. If Shiori's half-dressed state titillated Ren, he gave no outward indication. Ren carefully removed the earphone and turned off the Walkman.

 _Guess I can head back now_ , he thought.

Plans to check on Shiori were almost cancelled after. . .

Ren caught his reflection on the standing mirror. Eyes were a bit puffy. It made Ren glad to find them asleep. He did not like showing weakness in front of the others.

A ladder caught his eye, connecting to a trapdoor in the ceiling. This must be the rooftop access Shiori mentioned.

 _Maybe. . ._

Wouldn't hurt to get a peek at what it was like up there

The trapdoor hinges made a slight whinge at being pushed. Ren winced and glanced back. It did not wake them. He climbed out.

A cool breeze greeted Ren. Then the antigodlin bumps of the other buildings in Yongen-Jaya. Then Tokyo skyline.

Ren's breath caught. This was the view Shiori was used to seeing every night? Shiori had told him that she would come up here for her 'alone time' or if she felt she was having an episode attack on its way; an epiphenomenon of last year's mental shutdown tragedy. Looking at the glittering lights in the black and blue mass. . .Ren understood why this place brought her tranquillity.

"It's more interesting during a lightning storm," came a raspy voice behind Ren.

Shiori had joined him, still cocooned in the blanket Ren gave her. Her eyes were half-lidded; sleepy.

"You sound funny," said Ren.

"My voice?"

"Yeah."

"It's always like this when I wake up."

"You stand up here during a storm? Isn't that dangerous?"

A yawning noise.

"Aummm. . .A bit? Statistically, you're more likely to be bitten by a shark, than struck by lightning though," said Shiori.

"Right. . ."

Shiori inched a bit closer to Ren. Joker's back was turned to her, so she could not see his face.

"Is everything okay?" asked Shiori.

Ren kept his back turned.

"Kind of tilted over exams," said Ren.

"I doubt that."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't think exams would be the biggest deal to you, after what happened today with-" Shiori sneezed, "-curse that pond."

 _Your voice also sounds off. Hoarse_ , thought Shiori.

"What's Kuro up to these days?" asked Ren.

Sensing Ren did not want to talk about it, Shiori rolled with the subject change.

"Kuro. . .he's doing alright, I guess. Found himself a girlfriend too," said Shiori.

"Who is she?"

* * *

Inside the spacy limousine, two people were going at it, doggy-style. Sweat was thick and condensed on the window, as the girl pressed her palm against it, leaving a print. They both panted heavily.

Kuro pounded hard, shockwaves ripping on her heavy buttocks. He spanked her butt, arousing a moan out of her. Fuck yeah!

"That's right! Who's your daddy?!" said Kuro.

She looked back at him, confused. In between pants of breath, she said, "Kunikazu. . . Okumura. . .why?"

Kuro blanked at Haru, stupefied by the politically correct reply.

* * *

Shiori shrugged.

"No idea."

Shiori moved in front of Ren and sat, staring out into the same direction as he was. Although her nose felt cold from the chilly wind up here, Shiori did not leave. Something told her not to leave Ren alone.

* * *

Scanners hummed. Coffee became colder. Pens scratched on memos for tomorrow's court cases. Frosted glass panelled all offices on this floor, through which you could see sfumato heads speaking in easy volumes to each other. Some topics were light, like the new _Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse_ movie. Others were about their work; with some of it tying to the mental shutdowns, a socio-economic crisis in Japan. Many government bodies were looking into the phenomenon. Including this office. 'Special Investigations Unit' – a premier team of law enforcement agents and prosecution lawyers, equipped with special bureaucratic privileges.

The chatter among the co-workers only quieted when they neared the largest office on the floor corner. On the blackwood door of this office, embedded a title-plate which read 'DIRECTOR'. No one could enter it without being authenticated by the bio-metric palm scanner, next to the door.

Inside the director's office was green carpet. Tall shelves with tall books in them. One side of the office held a large clear glass window, affording a look of one of Tokyo's suburbs which neighboured metropolitan offices. At the wall opposite the desk, was a tromp l'oeil. It was a re-enactment of the director's favourite Shakespeare scene. When Brutus betrayed his dear friend, Julius Caesar. Two shadowy figures leaning against each other, a dagger on Caesar's back. Surrounded by the cornerstones of Rome's failing power.

The illustration had earned raised eyebrows to first time visitors. Even for some who had been in this office many times.

Pot plants planted in the corners. Not real plants, but artificial. Just like the integrity of the person who resided this office. He sat at his desk, studying the report prepared for him this morning.

"Suguru Kamoshida. . .Former Olympian. . .Teacher at Shujin Academy. . .Reason for turning himself in is. . .a heavy conscience, huh," said the SIU director.

The director spoke with a kind of timbre; of smoky parlours, quiet charisma and espionage in a dark alleyway. Talking like this was an old habit from his field days, back when he used to work for Japan's military intelligence. Before Shido pulled strings for his transfer over to the SIU division.

The director unclipped a photo of Kamoshida from the photo. He held it up for closer inspection.

Suguru looked well built. Heavy jaw. He was high-fiving a student, an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face. The photo was taken at a volleyball rally last year. Any unsuspecting eye looking at this would not first-guess this teacher to be an abusive ephebophile who pimped underage boys. The director's nostrils flared in distaste. What a vulgar sybarite. Still. . .

Did Suguru really give up on his dirty secrets, just like that? Of his own volition?

The director clipped the photo back. He ran a finger at the top paragraph of the report. These findings. . .the patterns of the situation were not dissimilar to that boy's abilities.

"Shujin Academy. . .It seems doubtful that a cognitive psience incident stirred up there. How could it? Science meeting the supernatural, you'd expect that in a Shinto Temple. . .or a dead researcher's home," said the director, smiling at the memory of that incident.

There was other data in this file. Investigative intelligence had been thorough. Everything from Kamoshida's GPA scores, blood-type, the people he had been seen with outside of Shujin, financial statements, were there any possible connections he may have had to yakuza or a cult (none substantiated), etcetera.

 _The human mind doesn't change that easily. . .let alone their natural temperament_ , thought the director.

Not even the psych-evaluation gave a clue. That should have been the closing on the matter. There was no cause for the SIU to take interest in this. The bad publicity of Kamoshida's arrest could not be spun against Shido's party in anyway. Yet. . .the director's instinct was telling him to look closer at this.

The director picked up the receiver on his phone and pressed '1', the quick-dial for his secretary.

" _Yes sir?_ " answered his secretary.

"Ishikawa, could you connect me to - Tiffany Ellison," said the director, rolling his tongue slowly to pronounce the foreign name.

" _Right away, sir. One moment please_."

The director waited as a ringing tone began to play. As it rung, the director recalled the last time he spoke to this woman. It was a conference call a while ago. With himself, Shido and two others, reporting on Akechi's psychological state when she visited him in Kyoto.

Ellison finally answered.

" _Nikaidô-san? It's past nine. To what business do I owe you? This is business, yes?_ " said Ellison.

Nikaidô chuckled.

"What if it was not?" he asked.

Ellison tutted on the other end.

" _You know Shido does not share his toys easily. What's wrong? Are the fresh interns in your office not up to drinking sake with you?_ " she teased.

"Hmph. Drinking companions are in supply well enough. No, what I am short of. . ."

" _I'm listening_."

Nikaidô paused, reading the school's name one more time. This happened in Tokyo.

"You may have heard about it in the news. About Suguru Kamoshida?" asked Nikaidô.

Of course, she would. It was part of her expertise to observe Japan's media, for her boss.

" _Yes. The scandal of a high school teacher. A girl killed herself because he raped her_ -"

Nikaidô heard a faint sound of keyboard typing.

" _-Suzui Shiho. What a sad face she has, too. Her family asked the media to keep their daughter's name out of the coverage of the arrest_ ," said Ellison.

"That's right. But it's more about. . .why Kamoshida confessed, which I'm interested in. And possibly the school itself," asserted Nikaidô.

" _Hmm? Can't buy that a man may be capable of a guilty conscience?_ " said Ellison.

There was a light touch of mockery in Ellison's voice. Nikaidô answered seriously.

"No. I cannot. Nobody is the villain in their own story. Not even someone like this Kamoshida."

There was an extended silence. Nikaidô could tell what she was thinking. He could also tell she was sceptical.

" _Wait. . ._ _you think this may have had something to do with cognitive psience? Akechi did not do this, Nikaidô-san_ ," said Ellison.

"Oh, I know he did not. Why would he? The boy is a mindless tool. No. We might be talking about an unknown party here. Notice the school's name?"

" _Shujin Academy. Kobayakawa was planted there as the principal, wasn't he? To keep an eye for young minds that would follow Shido's party without doubts. Maybe indoctrinate dogma. But he's too low down the ladder to know anything about psience_ ," said Ellison.

"Kobayakawa knows nothing more than we do, I'm sure."

" _. . ._ "

"I'd like for you to look into this, Ellison. I know it's far-fetched. I might even be wrong, you'd say. But something about this does not sit right with me. My gut says something is wrong," said Nikaidô.

More typing from the other end. It was almost inaudible, but Nikaidô thought he heard Ellison gasp? He was not sure.

" _. . .Shujin Academy. This is an interesting. . .coincidence_ ," muttered Ellison from the other end.

"Coincidence? About what?" asked Nikaidô.

Ellison did not answer straightaway. The typing had become more furious. There was a beeping noise, followed by what sounded like pages being printed. Speak woman, Nikaidô thought impatiently.

" _I'll do as you ask, Nikaidô. Perhaps your gut does have some credence for these things. If I find something, I'll duly let you know_ ," said Ellison.

His gut was also telling him that Ellison was holding back information from him. Nikaidô frowned. Well Ellison did say she'd tell him if she found something. No need to wrangle about this wrinkle.

"Thank you. I bid you a good day."

After the phone call, Nikaidô went to his office window. In his mind, he was replaying the telephone conversation. He did not question Ellison's allegiance. Even in this line of work, everyone kept secrets from each other. Trump cards shared. Trump cards hidden.

There was a card game Nikaidô used to play with his father and brother. Daifugō. His favourite rule in that game was 'Forbidden Last Card'. It was forbidden to go out with a specific card or a sequence of them. One of them was '2', the deuce. The other was the wild card, Joker.

Nikaidô blinked.

 _Perhaps for additional insurance, I'll have one more person look into it_ , thought Nikaidô.

* * *

 **The other week on Discord, turtleeden, SmokedJoker (writers who can be found on Ao3 - I recommend their fics) and I were discussing an idea - where a super-informal gig would be formed for writers of this ship. A digital hang outs of sort, where the folks can shoot breeze, support each other's writings, discuss ideas, chat about the series or just blow off some steam about the whole writing process.**

 **The main motive for this premise is that I want to encourage (new ones especially) writers for the ship, so they'd have a supportive environment. Which would hopefully grease the clockworks for the momentum of fics that would be posted for ShuAnn. It's not meant to be a serious thing - just a little community thing, that's all. For now, we've tentatively established this hangout to be a pre-existing Discord server which is dedicated to the ship. Non-writers are also welcomed (especially if you ship Ren x Ann). If you'd like in, please DM me.**


	24. Little Ember Riding Hood

.

 _Before the final paper._

Ryuji bit into his nail, reading his flashcard notes for Chemistry one last time. Inside the classroom, the teacher was setting down the exam papers on the desk while the students queued outside.

 _OK Ryuji, you got this. YOU. GOT. THIS. You understand. . .Stoichiometry_ , thought Ryuji.

"You may all enter the exam room," announced Hiruta sensei.

Ryuji dropped his notes into his bag. Next to him, a student murmured, "I heard they made this a hard paper."

 _Oh, who am I kidding. . .it's like my anxiety has anxiety_ _for this paper_ , he thought, sweat breaking.

#

Ren sat himself for the English paper, feeling bored. He wished exams were over already. In-front of him, Ann was almost bouncing in her seat. Right. This was Ann's favourite subject. Also the only subject Shiori was sometimes outscored in.

At the front, Ms. Chouno was gossiping with another teacher, still holding onto the question papers.

A finger tapped Ren's shoulder.

Ren turned on his seat. Shiori showed him her phone's screen.

_Takemi: How is studying coming along for your exams? By the way, I have a new medicine ready. _

_Takemi: I'd like to test it on you as soon as possible. _

_Takemi: You. And your 'boyfriend', Ren _

_Takemi: Could you stop by my little guinea pigs? _

"Guinea pigs? Really?" said Ren.

"I mean, what else are we to her?" said Shiori, quickly hiding her phone, lest Ms. Chouno noticed.

"She enjoys teasing us while she does this," grumped Ren.

"Our second Palace raid could be coming up. We need to continue these trials if we want to support our Phantom Thievery. Don't forget about Iwai's gun too."

* * *

 _After exams_.

Ryuji puffed out, collapsing at the front-steps of Shujin. It was over. He made it out alive. Ryuji closed his eyes, basking in the sun's warmth on his face.

Ryuji sometimes wondered what he was supposed to do after high school, now that his leg was broken and the sports scholarship was out of his reach. Academics was never going to be his forte, so getting into a good university with high marks was something he could forget all about.

The tired voices of other students filled the noise. Few sounded satisfied. Some indifferent. Others were longing for their beds. Ryuji felt someone sit next to him. He opened his eyes. It was Ren.

"Judging by your face, I'm guessin' English went well," said Ryuji.

"Hmm? Chemistry wasn't fun?" asked Ren.

"Never has been," said Ryuji, his shoulders sagging. The ex-runner idly tugged at his shoelaces.

 _He seems a bit down_ , thought Ren.

"English was pretty annoying. Lots of vocabs," said Ren, staring ahead.

"Not a fan of big words?"

"Yeap. I hate people who use big words. They're so ostentatious," said Ren.

Ryuji chuckled.

A breeze briefed past the boys. Shiori landed in front of them, kicking up a cloud of dust at her feet. Following her was Ann, who dropped the exhibition tickets on Ren's lap.

"It's starting tomorrow," said Ann.

"Finally. I'm so pumped to get back on this Phantom Thief business," said Ryuji.

"Speaking of PT business," said Shiori, flashing her eyebrows at Shujin's front doors.

They all glanced back. At the entrance lobby, Makoto was speaking to Mishima.

"Think she's asking about us?" asked Ann.

"Why else would that creature have human interactions with the students? She never checked up on Mishima when Kamoshida was around," said Shiori, the corner of her lips curling in a grimace.

"We should probably scram, before Niijima sees us all together," said Ryuji.

* * *

 _At Yongen-Jaya's backstreets_.

"This is not going to end well you know. With Makoto," said Shiori.

 _Pock!_

The pitching machine shot out a baseball. Shiori took a swing, sending the ball flying against the meshed fence of the batting cages. Ren took his turn.

"I thought you did not believe in her competency as student council president?" asked Ren.

 _Pock!_

Ren swung. He struck the baseball squarely, almost hitting the optional target bullseye. Ren tutted, tapping the end of his stick on the ground. He held up the bat again.

"It's Makoto's self-absorbed attitude which makes her incompetent," said Shiori.

 _Pock!_

Ren struck the ball. Wild hit.

"She only cares about watching out for herself. Whenever crap happened where she was at fault, it would always be something else - someone else to blame."

 _Pock!_

The bat connected. The ball glanced off the corner-edge of the bullseye sign.

 _I'll get that someday_ , thought Ren.

"Speaking from experience?" asked Ren.

Shiori took the batting spot, rubbing her eyes. Eyelashes distorted a strange lens flare from the court's glaring luminaires; white and green luminesce corollas. Blurs. She blinked rapidly - the court focused back into form.

"Lottsa' stories with this one. You should have seen this boy who wanted to end things with Makoto, but he was too sissy to be blamed for egging her. So, he asked me for a favour," said Shiori.

 _Pock!_

Shiori's swing missed.

"A boy? Like someone she was dating?" asked Ren.

"Not even that. That's what made the situation all the more annoying. I only 'helped' because Mizuki's sister was 'the other woman' for the guy. Didn't make life easier at the student council, after that."

 _Pock!_

Another miss. Shiori bit the corner of her lip. Ren folded his arms.

"Yet despite calling her 'incompetent', you're worried Makoto could get us into deep shit?"

 _Pock!_

Shiori's fingers curled in and swung. The ball twocked and struck the bullseye in its dead centre. Urban homerun. The bat swung down lazily.

"I might dislike Niijima, but even I know she's formidable if she sets her mind to a goal. As long as there is something in it for her, she will act. Principal Kobayakawa. . .whatever he said to her, has prompted Makoto to act against the fabled Phantom Thieves. The people who _saved_ the volleyball team."

". . ."

Shiori returned her bat to the racks.

"Shall we visit Tae?" prompted Shiori.

Ren checked the time. 6:02 PM. Clinic would still be open. Ren could not say he was fond of the memory of dodgy tasting meds and then numbing into a blackout. Tonight was not going to be fun.

* * *

 _Next morning. Day 1 of the Madarame Exhibition_.

A cigarette lit. Orange glowed brighter. Metal shutters rolled, opening up the street-stand shop. The smoking storekeeper unfolded the cabinets, rolling out the magazine racks and began shelving them. Manga, newspapers, auto magazines, gravure photobooks and porno. Top shelves for cigarettes. Snack bars on the top right. Cold drinks in the fridge.

First in line to the shop was a messy haired youth, with glasses. He stood hands in pocket, patiently waiting for the lady to set up her kiosk. Ren idly watched the line of smoke trace the woman's early past, as she moved around the kiosk. Spring's dandelion puffs floated in the morning sunshine, their edges fully catching at the cigarette's vaping curls.

"What would you like?"

"Four iced coffee, please," said Ren.

One of the puffballs neared Ren. His eyes followed the puffball teasing close to him then backing away; the vague breeze giving it the personification of coyness. The puffball slowly floated down to the magazine rack and landed on today's newspaper. Ren's eyes narrowed at the headline.

"Here you go. Cash or card?"

"Card. I'll have a _Nankai Times_ too," said Ren.

Street breeze kicked up, bringing in a thicker draft of dandelion puffballs into Shibuya's streets. With the cans in his pockets, Ren unfolded the newspaper, checking out the front-page article.

OoOoO

 _UNITED FUTURE PARTY PROMISES END TO SHUTDOWNS_

 _Speaking yesterday to a press conference, Diet representative Masayoshi Shido declared that his party would put an end to the mass hysteria that gripped Japan over the mental shutdowns._

" _The cracks in the system are showing, no thanks to the current administration. People are losing their minds. Why? Because this government's decade long negligence of addressing. . ._ "

OoOoO

Ren's eyes scanned the article. Trying to perceive the man beyond the thread of his political P.R words. Ren had to hand it to him. Shido was charismatic. He knew how to press people's buttons. Were it not for his arrest; had Ren not personally acquainted with Shido, he would have almost believed all this bullshit himself.

"Who are you, truly. . ." muttered Ren.

Alongside Ren, a single dandelion had chosen to tag along with him. The puffball precariously dodged other pedestrians in swish and float, spurred by the universe's chaos theory to keep up with the dark jacket boy. Ren took a left and somehow the puffball went with him. Ahead of Ren was the line to the Madarame Exhibit. The others were waiting for him there.

OoOoO

" _. . .think of the children. Are we to raise the next generation of Japan, teaching them how to fear the world? Only to find when they are adults, they must stumble in the society?" said Shido._

 _The current Prime Minister has accused Shido's party of hyper-dramatizing what he insists are "simple engineering failures" – referencing last month's train derailments. However, the Prime Minister would not comment on the mental shutdowns which have occurred outside the subway system. . ._

OoOoO

The dandelion puffball landed a few feet in-front of Ren. It slanted on the concrete, fragile to the world. Ren's sneakers tapped on the ground, stepping closer to it.

The edges of the newspaper wrinkled from being gripped too hard - as Ren read more. People were believing this drivel. Ren's walk became a stride, feet landing harder. The puffball laid in wake, about to be crushed.

These polling numbers. . .

 _He could actually win the next election. This momentum. . ._ thought Ren.

Ren gritted his teeth. His foot raised for the next step. The shadow of his shoe shrouding the dandelion.

Flash of red. Varsity jacket. Curly twintails.

"Morning! What are you reading?"

Ren stopped in his tracks, almost bumping into Ann. Above the edge of the newspaper, a pair of blue eyes twinked at him. Behind her were Shiori and Ryuji.

The dandelion laid untouched between Ann's converse. It millimetre rolled. Then took off into the air again. Safe from the street's stampeding pavement.

Ann felt her belly somersault when Ren gave her a devil-may-care half-smile. Ann liked it when he dared to tease hints of Joker, while they were in the real world. That bad boy who seemed to promise the unknowing thrills that would make Ann's dad want to shoot Ren, just to keep his darling girl safe from dark delights. Maybe they could run away to some beach in Costa Rica where nobody would find them. A phantasmagoria of their shadows splashing in the lagoon waters, rolling over each other under the moonlight, as Ann opened Pandora's Box. . .

"Forecasts. They're issuing a pollen warning. Explains all these dandelions, I guess," said Ren.

Ren folded the newspaper and tossed it into a nearby recycling bin. Ren noticed Shiori's gaze rest on the bin, a little too long for his liking. Has Shiori picked up on his obsession?

"Queue is startin'. We should prolly' head in," said Ryuji.

Vertical banners stood sentinel with lampposts leading to the entrance of the gallery. Each of them read _Irchiryusai Madarame: An Infinite Font of Ideas_ in black and yellow, nouveau katakana. Press journalists were photographing the venue, prompting for photos from any V.I.P guest who were a powerhouse in the art world.

The gang queued up, with Ryuji in the front, holding their tickets nervously.

"We kinda stand out a bit? Dontcha' think?" asked Ryuji.

"We're the only brats around?" queried Shiori, adjusting her bag harness.

From the open zipper on Shiori's bag, a black tail hung down. Morgana was still sleeping after watching _Doctor-X: Surgeon Michiko Daimon_ , the whole night, on Ren's laptop.

" _The main character is just like us, Ren! She hates authority and constraints!" piped Morgana, his larkish face tinted by the blue light from the screen._

 _Behind Morgana, Ren's head half-hung from the bed, drool falling in deep sleep._

"No school uniforms to tell, since it's the weekend," said Ren.

The queue moved forward.

"I wonder if _she_ will be here," Ann said darkly.

Kofuki.

Ren pushed up his glasses. Let's not do this today, thought Ren.

"If she is, it does not matter. We're here to investigate Madarame," said Ren.

Even though Ren was saying it aloud to the group in general, Shiori knew it was more directed to Ann.

They were almost at the check-in booth. Ticket scanners beeped.

Ren continued, "Kitagawa clearly has an interest in you. . .exploit that. Prod and dizzy him with your Carmen sensibilities to learn more about his sensei."

Ann did not catch an iota of jealousy tingeing Ren's syllables. His composure was up today.

"None of you guys have a problem with that?" asked Ann, still looking unconvinced.

"We'll be nearby. If he tries anythin', all four of us will kick his ass!" said Ryuji.

Shiori nodded, sipping her iced coffee.

Ann was quiet. She wanted to know what Ren had to say.

"I don't have a problem. You trust us to watch your back, Ann. We will. I will. No flirty Kosei chic will distract me from. . ."

Ren hesitated, as if revising his words. He silently mouthed something to himself.

"From?" asked Ann.

". . .from watching over my comrades," said Ren.

There was no mirth. No pride. Ren looked like he sincerely meant it.

Ann's expression softened.

"Thank you," said Ann.

 _They don't like fighting each other. Even if they can't help it sometimes_ , realised Shiori.

Tension aside, there was an almost anxious-like energy between Ren and Ann, Shiori observed. Both wanted to move on from the episode at Inokashira Park. It was obvious to the other Phantom Thief members now, that Ann and Ren wanted each other. Yet at the same time, neither of the two were sure of how to proceed forward. Even Ryuji caught onto the situation, having texted Shiori this morning:

_Ryuji: So uhh... _

_Ryuji: This thing between Ann and Ren_

_Ryuji: Am I the only one who notices? _

_Shiori: The way they look at each other hungrily? _

_Ryuji: Yea _

_Shiori: The blushing? _

_Ryuji: Yeah! _

_Shiori: How they bicker like an old married couple? _

_Ryuji: Right?! _

_Shiori: Yeah, you're the only one, Ryuji _

_Ryuji: Maaaan, stop trolling _

_Ryuji: I bet you noticed sooner than I did _

_Ryuji: Have you done anything? _

_Shiori: ? _

_Ryuji: Like be a wingman for them _

_Ryuji: I kinda want to help out _

_Shiori: You do? _

_Ryuji: But I don't know where to start _

_Ryuji: Of course, I do. Ren's like a brother to me _

_Ryuji: I care about him _

_Ryuji: Don't tell him I said that though! _

_Shiori: Aww Ryuji ? _

_Shiori: You boys worry too much about maintaining that macho appearance _

_Ryuji: It's a guy thing | ￣ヘ￣| _

_Ryuji: You wouldn't get it _

_Ryuji: I also care about Ann too. She's kind of… _

_Ryuji: I mean _

_Ryuji: We've known each other since elementary school _

_Ryuji: There was this one time, on a field trip. She gave me money because I was short on buying a gift for me mum _

_Ryuji: After a while…we drifted apart. _

_Ryuji: Look, I ain't proud of some of the things I've done _

_Ryuji: … _

_Shiori: It's okay _

_Shiori: I'm listening _

_Ryuji: Let's just say, while Ann was being harassed. _

_Ryuji: And putting up with those rumours about her _

_Ryuji: I was this cocky jock who didn't even try to talk to an old friend _

_Ryuji: Even after Kamoshida broke me.. _

_Ryuji: I thought she was Kamoshida's girl y'know? The whole time _

_Ryuji: I believed the rumours like everyone else _

_Ryuji: Until Ren showed up. He saw past the bullshit about what the school saying about us _

_Ryuji: After everything we've been through _

_Ryuji: Ann's like a sister to me, now _

_Ryuji: And I think…she deserves a good thing.. _

_Ryuji: They both do _

_Shiori: Now you're wondering if there's something you can do from the sidelines _

_Ryuji: Exactly _

_Shiori: Hmm **(** **ﾟﾍﾟ** **)** _

_Shiori: I've spoken to Ren about this _

_Ryuji: Really? _

_Ryuji: So he knows? That Ann likes him? _

_Shiori: If you ask me, he probably knew almost as soon as Ann did herself _

_Shiori: I'm impressed with his restraint _

_Shiori: Ren doesn't talk about it, but he wanted to give Ann space after the crazy events with Kamoshida _

_Shiori: With Shiho _

_Ryuji: :( _

_Shiori: Among other things… _

_Shiori: Ann was in an emotionally vulnerable state at that time _

_Shiori: Yet Ren did not take advantage of her _

_Ryuji: She's fine now, though? _

_Shiori: More like "fine" _

_Shiori: But yes. I think Ann's at a point where she's steadied herself _

_Shiori: …she still likes Ren. A lot _

_Ryuji: Should we do anything? _

_Shiori: This is between them, now _

_Shiori: If they're meant to be, they'll kindle the spark together _

_Ryuji: I don't get it _

_Ryuji: If two people like each other _

_Ryuji: Why wait? Why all this? _

_Shiori: Ha _

_Shiori: …There is something you said that is bothering me _

_Ryuji: What? _

_Shiori: "Even after Kamoshida broke me" _

_Shiori: You're not broken, Ryuji _

_Ryuji: Oh that. _

_Ryuji: I didn't mean it like that _

_Shiori: ...yeah sure. _

_Ryuji: I mean he did break my leg _

_Shiori: I know he did. _

_Shiori: If you ask me, your mother should sue the school after Kamoshida's confession _

_Shiori: I just don't want you to feel that Kamoshida still has power over you _

_Shiori: Ann was not the only one who was affected by him _

_Shiori: We all know _

_Ryuji: Shiori… _

_Shiori: You don't need to listen to me preaching this _

_Shiori: But I hope you know, you're much more than what Kamoshida did to you. You're one of the strongest people I know _

Wide corridors greeted them when they were inside. Though the event seemed mostly quiet with people examining the paintings in contemplation – there was also a pregnant sense of excitement, especially from those with a press pass. Ren tensed up when one photographer flashed his DSLR at the Phantom Thieves, only to realise the guy intended to capture a large screen near them. The panoramic panels showed a picture of a smiling woman, gazing down at a misty blur. The name 'Sayuri' faded into visibility.

 _Could be an important piece_ , thought Ren.

"No food buffet," grumbled Ryuji.

"I don't spy him. Madarame," said Shiori.

"Here comes Yusuke though. . ." said Ann.

Indeed. Yusuke stood out tall among some elderly patrons, as he excused himself through them. To Ren's relief, Kofuki was not with him.

Yusuke's face lit-up in a smile, approaching Ann.

"You came!" said Yusuke, merry.

Then he noticed the others.

"You. . .came," said Yusuke in a deflated tone.

Shiori sailor-saluted.

"You're welcome," said Shiori.

"What'd you expect when you left us those tickets?!" said Ryuji, folding his arms.

Yusuke silently assessed this loud-mouthed boy.

"Please be sure not to get in the way of the other visitors-" Yusuke turned Ann, "-Come now. I'll show you around. I'd like to speak more about the picture I'd like to draw too," said Yusuke.

Shiori was about to whisper 'Good luck' to Ann, when something distracting from the corner of her eye stopped her. An older man, who looked a good fifteen years older than her. Shiori remembered him looking in their direction when they first entered the gallery. He was still watching now.

Ren too had noticed the stranger, his attention divided by Ann leaving and this man who was fixated on Shiori.

"Well. . .see you guys later," said Ann, with half her heart.

Yusuke led Ann away from the gang.

 _As far as he can take her from us_ , thought Ren.

"Ren, do you. . ." said Shiori.

"I know. I see him too," said Ren.

"See who?" asked Ryuji.

"The guy who's watching me-" Shiori broke off when a ripple of murmurs swept the gallery.

The crowd broke into a titillated frenzy when the lights dimmed. A spotlight switched onto a podium in-front of the long OLED screens that were photographed earlier. The audience were in chippery whispers.

"Is that Madarame-san?!"

"Over there!"

"I'm so glad I came on opening day!"

Ren felt people press from behind him. A small stampede started in the dark and the three of them became separated in the crowd.

"Hey! Stop pushin!" said Ryuji.

A loud meow went up in the air. Morgana had woken up.

"I'm getting crushed!" said Morgana.

This old lady tried shoving against Shiori, who dug her heels thinking, _For an old fart, she's pretty strong - !_

Shiori lost her balance, stumbling forward.

Ren heard Shiori say "Crap!"

"Shiori?" said Ren, trying to make her out in the shadowy frenzy.

People sure were eager to get an up-close view of Madarame.

Betwixt her stumble and smacking onto the floor face-first, someone caught Shiori in the dark. She could not make out who.

"You all right?" said a male voice she did not recognise.

"Y-yeah," said Shiori.

" _Ladies and gentlemen. Presenting to you, the maestro of Japanese arts and beyond. Ichiryusai Madarame_ ," boomed an announcement.

A slightly hunched figure took to the stage. Ren stopped struggling against the waves of boisterous art fans. This was him. The person the Phantom Thieves were investigating.

Ren could not properly make out his face. The graceful figure was still walking – no – gliding, to the stationary spotlight on the stage. The glazing OLED created a chiaroscuro effect of yellow and black, against his slightly hunched silhouette. When he stepped into the spotlight, Ren released a pent-up breath.

"Madarame. . ." murmured Ren.

He looked so unlike Kamoshida. A frail, wizened looking elder smiled back out at the crowd, his sleeves joined together from his traditional coat. Camera shutters went off, flaring up the stage in epileptic flashes.

Madarame raised his head to speak. All at once, everyone in the crowd hushed down to pin-drop silence. This was the level of respect he commanded in the art world. . .

Madarame continued to smile warmly his shadowy audience. His head turned, as if looking at each and every person, giving a personal touch to his presence on the stage. Even Ren felt like Madarame was looking straight at him at one point. It was a compassionate gaze. Hugely different from when Kamoshida 'offered' Ren a ride that day.

The Japanese master spoke:

"At considerable lengths, the patrons of my creations have often asked me a classical, if not, trite question. Nonetheless, it has been always been an important query for the human condition. Even before the days when Florence moulded the likes of Leonardo da Vinci. What is art?"

Madarame paused.

"Is art, the capturing of a beatific image? The arcs of elegant brush-stroking anatomy? Does art have to be a painting from a cranky old man, like myself?"

Ardour laughter. Madarame smiled.

While Madarame had been speaking, pictures of paintings were in a slideshow loop behind him. More than once, the picture of the woman in a red dress came up, the 'Sayuri' one. Ren was starting to wonder why her gentle expression was somewhat familiar to him.

"My answer has always been: art can exist in and outside a museum. I am talking about, feelings. How art makes us feel as we gaze upon the canvass. That. . .intangible. . .indefinable spark. . .that is created within us, when we listen to a melody. Found in our favourite fictional characters. Seen upon in a painting. Sometimes we find art in. . ."

For the briefest of moments, Ren noticed a shift in the room. Almost like cognitions shimmying when entering the metaverse. The shift felt like an emanation from Madarame; his dark eyes glittering a split-second. Ren's shoulders tensed.

The tilt went away. The vibe in the atmosphere became normal once more. Madarame continued to be the same, gentle elderly man he showed himself to be. His words came out even more softly now. There was an almost sonant violin-like quality of sorrow in his words.

"Sometimes. . .we find art in people. Their identities. Actions. Their mannerisms and appearances. Juxtaposing qualities which mix and alchemize incredible feelings within us! Feelings so powerful, that we humans, often chase after them if they're gone. Sometimes, we might create mementos of their art, as a way of trying to immortalise them. Hundreds of years ago, a Persian princess died. The 'art' of her existence lives on today, as the Taj Mahal."

The luminaires slowly brightened, lightening up the room. Madarame's speech was coming to an end. Ren could not see the others. Ryuji and Shiori had disappeared into the crowd, during the earlier chaos.

"From the deepest of my heart, I'd like to thank you all for come to the Madarame Exhibit," said Madarame, bowing his head.

Camera flashes started up again. The press peppered questions:

"How is it you're able to paint such variety of ideas?"

"Is it true you live in a modest shack?"

"Do you think _Sayuri_ will remain as your magnum opus?"

Ren shook his head in disbelief. If Madarame really did have a Palace, this was going to be an affair a whole lot different to raiding a pervert's castle. Art. Identities. Ren sensed complications beyond pupils being abused like Natsuhiko Nakanohara. Other people began to flock, either to Madarame or to another painting. Not wanting to stand out, Ren decided to at least pretend in being interested in Madarame's art.

 _Is the painting of the woman in red, here?_ Wondered Ren.

Walking along, Ren opened his smartphone web browser, typing 'Madarame Sayuri' in the search engine. Ren enlarged the image on the painting to full screen on his phone. There was something about this one which grabbed at Ren's eye. The sense of familiarity from earlier was repeating again. Why did he feel this way?

There was also a peculiarity. The woman in red was looking down. But at what? The mist was there, so whatever she was looking at was a mystery.

Ren frowned.

It just felt. . .wrong to Ren. Why hide what she is looking at? You don't muster up a kind face like that without some kind of honesty. It was like with Ann-

 _Wait_ , thought Ren.

Ren stopped at a landscape painting; of an icy mountain and cherry blossoms. It did look nice, but not in the same calibre as 'Sayuri'.

That was it. This was why the woman's expression reminded Ren of something. It was someone. Ann.

Someone - another patron of the exhibition joined Ren by his side. Ren looked up distractedly, thinking it was one of his friends. His companion was a green-eyed girl Ren did not recognise. The red clover rope quivered on her waterfall mane hair, as she leaned towards at the snow mountain painting. The way her nose quivered, reminded Ren of an inquisitive squirrel.

"Snowy sentinel. Vanguard my Togo Kingdom. Cometh as my front-line defence against the Eternal Dragon. . ." she muttered under her breath.

 _. . .Trippy,_ Thought Ren.

Although Ren did not know it at the time, meeting Hifumi Togo would in the later months lead to the most fucked up event of their lives.

#

The man who caught Shiori from being trampled on by Madarame's pushy fans, happened to be the curator of this art gallery. He introduced himself as Keisuke Tanaka. Square-bearded. Caramel deep voice. Dressed in casual smart attire. Shiori guessed him to be in his mid-thirties.

Shiori decided he was OK looking. Not someone who would straightaway catch her eye unless she looked closer at them. Or if he stared at you right from the entrance. Which is exactly what happened from earlier.

After Shiori introduced herself (indirectly cautioning him that she was still in high school), she realised Keisuke still intended to hit on her. The first part of his conquest was offering her a tour of Madarame's paintings.

Did Keisuke honestly want to sleep with her, knowing she was a minor? Shiori wondered, in an amalgam of amour propre and exasperation. Unable to see Ryuji or Ren around, Shiori accepted his tour, with the intention of making a slip as soon as she saw one of the others.

 _Hey_ , _I might even learn something useful on Madarame_ , thought Shiori, as they left the third painting.

"And this one here?" asked Shiori.

The oil painting showed a dark-gowned woman sitting by an ovate window (it reminded Shiori of the human eye). A pottery sat on the sill, containing a single rose. The woman had blushing cheeks almost to match the vivid cerise of the petals. It felt like her gaze was freshly chanced on Shiori, like someone who glanced out their home to see a tall schoolgirl walking down the street. What almost escaped Shiori's attention was the mirror behind the dark-gowned maiden. The artisan had painted the reflections of the window sill, the plant, and even hints of the rolling hills outside. But the maiden herself was absent from the reflexion.

Beneath the painting's frame, a platinum plate read "? ? ﾝﾕﾀℕ? ﾝﾕﾆ? ? ﾝﾔﾽ ℝ? ﾝﾔﾸ? ﾝﾕﾀ? ﾝﾕﾐ. ? ?￢ﾄﾝ? ﾝﾕﾋℍ? ﾝﾕﾌ? ? ﾝﾕﾀℝℝ?￢ﾄﾝ.". Shiori found it somewhat kitsch.

"Ah. Clandestine mortis," said Keisuke.

"Is that its name?"

"No. It is a motif. One of the sensibilities of the old Dutch masters – when they want to show you a theme. You see, every tiny detail matters in a painting. After all, the artist spent hours in his atelier, fine-brushing and powdering that small square inch. Tell me, what secret do you spy from this one?"

Shiori considered the woman by the window.

"I'd like to say she's a vampire, since we don't see her reflection. But that's not true here, is it?" said Shiori.

Keisuke shook his head.

Shiori stepped a bit closer to the painting. The woman's eyes seemed to deepen into darker shades of brown, at Shiori's closeness. Let's see. . .a maiden sat in front of the mirror, with a rose on the window sill. She was not showing in the mirror. But the rose was in the reflection. Wait. . .

Shiori gasped. Keisuke nodded approvingly.

"She's dying," said Shiori.

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"The window – is an allegory of the reality we make for ourselves. Since it is shaped like an eye. To look at the world, we always first see it through the frames of our prejudices, our instincts. Through this window, this woman is there. My prejudices and ideals tell me she's kind of beautiful. It's a bit clever and deceptive by the artist, he went through great lengths to create focal techniques, so my eye is drawn to her first and most. So much that I could overlook the mirror behind her. That mirror. . .I think that's like. . .the depth of the truth?" Shiori asked.

"Go on. You're on the right track."

"Her reflection is not in the mirror. People don't see the 'truth' about her. But the rose, it betrays her secret! In front of us, it's blushing red, healthy, like she is. But in the mirror. . .the petals look deadening. Darker shades. Curling in at the edges," said Shiori.

"Very good. The explanation of this painting is that the woman has cancer. The painter – well, Madarame, he's telling you a secret message. That even beautiful things die. Nothing is forever. In still life paintings, keep an eye for Mother Nature's calls to the void. It might be a fly or other insect. They attract to rot we cannot see. Alternatively, it could be an almost perfect fruit that has a strange dark spot. Or in this case, a wilting petal," said Keisuke.

Shiori felt a little impressed with herself.

"I'm not really into the life of art galleries. No offence-"

"None taken."

"-but I figured high artsy stuff was just boring and beyond me. I guess I'm kinda surprised I understood this one," said Shiori.

"I don't fault you. The art world gets so easily removed from everyday practicality, we must look daffy to outsiders. And no, none of it will ever be beyond you, Oshiro-san. Art is a language – one that surpasses cold semantics. Sometimes symbolic, like here. Or pure visual stimulation. Or both. Even in real life. . .symbols talk to us," said Keisuke.

Shiori was sceptical.

"Symbols in real life huh. . ."

Keisuke chuckled.

"Yes. Pay attention and you'll know what I mean. The world is your dream canvass, humming and vibrating parables. You just don't know you're lucid dreaming," said Keisuke.

Shiori remembered why she was here.

"This is really Madarame's painting?" she asked.

"Everything in this exhibition is his," said Keisuke, frowning at Shiori's question.

". . .are all his paintings like this?"

"No. And that is what makes Madarame a genius. He strokes at such a dynamic variety, it is amazing to think it all came from one mind. Most artisans adopt a certain style, maybe stick with it for years, then slowly change their style. But Madarame? He's demonstrated mastery at different styles and feelings," said Keisuke.

". . ."

' _Sayuri' is said to have Japanese sensibilities in style. But this one is Dutch? He's proven to be a virtuoso for Dutch and Japanese art. Maybe Madarame is that good. . ._ thought Shiori.

They moved onto the next painting. Keisuke continued to speak, not taking notice to Shiori's confused expression.

". . .this one is called _Little Ember Riding Hood_."

A little girl stood in a dark forest with twilight blue into the unknown distances. Her red hood singed and glowed at the edges, showing a hint of fire. This painting had an edge, an almost pop fairy-tale quality to it.

Had this showcase not been called the 'Madarame Exhibit', Shiori would have never guess it belonged to the same artist as _Sayuri_ and the Dutch painting. The abrupt shift in colour sensibility and human anatomy was so different. Like trying to imagine that the artist designer for _Berserk_ and a Ghibli character, is the same person.

". . .it's probably more your thing. The painting is said to be experiential, so the viewer may apply his or her own meaning to 'Little Ember'-" Keisuke paused to bat away a fly that buzzed a nuisance around his face. The insect briefly settled on the corner gild-frame of _Little Ember Riding Hood_ then zoomed away into the airy vastness of the gallery.

 _Attract to the rot we cannot see_ , Shiori thought.

Keisuke continued speaking, oblivious:

"-my personal interpretation of this Madarame piece is. . ."

Shiori was feeling uneasy. Not sure if she was imagining it, but the exhibit had taken a darker shade now, as if someone inched the dimmer light-switch. This celebrated event was hiding something the public did not see. Did Madarame step on dreams and passions, to build his reputation as a master of the arts?

#

The black cat had the feel of melancholic Victorian poetry, full of crows, cemetery and whiskers.

"I didn't know Madarame could paint so many different kinds of art," said Ann, looking up at a painting.

"Usually one concentrates on their own style. However, Sensei creates all this by himself. In that way, he is special," said Yusuke.

"Yusuke! Who's your friend?" came a voice.

Tearing her gaze from the painting, Ann saw none other than, Madarame himself.

"Sensei! Hello. I was just showing Takamaki-san your pieces. She is currently in consideration for being the model for my next painting," said Yusuke.

Ann noticed Yusuke's posture had straightened – no – it was more like a board stiffening. Especially his arms. Was this how Yusuke always behaved around his teacher? Ann wondered.

"Ah. That's lovely. Are you enjoying the exhibit?" asked Madarame.

"I am. I don't know how to put it into the best words which could owe enough to your talent. . .but it's really amazing," said Ann.

"You're sensing something from the artwork. . .That alone is enough to give us artists satisfaction," said Madarame.

 _I imagined artists to be difficult to approach. But this guy seems quite friendly_ , thought Ann.

Ann sunny smiled.

"I'm glad – oh. . ." Ann broke off.

"Hmm?" said Madarame.

"What's wrong, Ann?" asked Yusuke.

Ann lefty leaned, catching a standout artwork. An orange fox inhabiting a forest filled with a red-like aura. This was the piece Ann saw on the exhibition's website, this morning. Ann stepped closer to it, her mouth parting in intrigue.

Yusuke's eyes widened. This painting. . .

 _I painted this. . .before my first nervous breakdown_ , thought Yusuke. Just before he truly slipped into depression.

"This is it. The painting I wanted to see in person," said Ann.

Madarame joined Ann by her side. Yusuke hung back, unnerved.

"Oh? What draws you to _Forestry Carmine_?" asked Madarame.

"I guess it's the painter's anger? I'm not sure, but I sense this. . .strong frustration from it. Sadness too. From that little fox specifically. It looks as if. . ." Ann paused.

From the corner of Ann's eye, she saw Madarame look back at Yusuke. Ann was about to say, 'As if it wants to escape' but something made her stop those words. Ann felt an instinct that Yusuke was somehow getting into trouble by what she was saying. Why? Ann wondered, troubled.

"As if?" asked Madarame.

The tone of Yusuke's sensei had the same frail friendliness, but Ann did not buy it. Her mouth went dry. Shit. Madarame was waiting for an answer. Ann kept up her charade of insouciance, saying:

"As if. . .it's hungry! Yeah! I think the fox just wants to eat some yummy sweets," said Ann, in what she hoped was her best airheaded blondie voice.

Those grey eyebrows relaxed ever so slightly. Bullet dodged? Ann wondered.

Madarame chuckled.

"I see. Well, I best be going. If you'll excuse me," said Madarame.

At Madarame's retreating back, Yusuke's posture drooped a little. His shoulders slumped, chin going down. Ann heard him mumbling something.

". . ."

"Something wrong?" asked Ann.

 _Ann didn't understand my feelings in that painting. Sweets? There is no such motif_ , thought Yusuke.

Yusuke looked quite beside himself, to Ann. She looked in-between _Forestry Carmine_ and the tall boy. Theories were forming and attaching themselves in Ann's mind, after what Shadow Nakanohara told them and with the way Yusuke was behaving.

". . ."

"Yusuke?" said Ann.

"Don't mind me. . .Come. There are better pieces, than. . .than this one. This way!" exclaimed Yusuke, vigour ballooning back into his demeanour.

#

Would it be wrong to rationalise life as a strategic board piece? Where possibilities open and close for each person, as they move through the unseen columns and rows, restricted by the unseen rules of fate?

Hifumi's father had taught her the board game of shogi with the use of imagery. To see the pieces on the shogi board as her little kingdom, where that little Pawn piece not only had a name to her, but lore and personality. Their entire lives felt real to her. Did she dare to sacrifice her brave soldier, when Pawn-san had a wife waiting for him back home at their cottage? Or would her Lolita Knight save Pawn-san in an unexpected manoeuvre of deceit, ready to throw away her hollow life of porcelain dolls and espionage?

Hifumi's novelisation did not stop with inanimate shogi pieces. Through revolving doors, in the subway and other urban jungles, she sometimes saw interesting people who fervently left her imagining these strangers' entire lives in spectral intensities of second hand dreams and stories.

At a Catholic Church; the red dress woman who tip-toed up to an angel statue, her cerise lips trembling as she caressed its stone cheeks. Or the dark tall figure of a man, Hifumi saw through the droplet dappled glass at a manga café. He stood alone, hunched in the rain, reading something in his hands (A photo? A text message?), only to break into an abrupt sprint across the road which forced all six lanes of traffic to stop for him. Years had gone by and Hifumi still thought about the punk rocker with wavy curls swaying in the spinning winds of summer's breezy push. This black woman was surrounded by Japanese school children, as they listened in amazement to her playing an acoustic guitar, singing a foreign song in the most soulful voice to ever lilt Hifumi's ears.

But what of herself? Hifumi wondered. What about her own stories?

Hifumi considered the question as she strolled through the gallery. The paintings on the wall passed by like a camera film rolling, each portrait a snap of Madarame's creativity.

". . .this one is called _Little Ember Riding Hood_ ," Hifumi overheard.

How many more manoeuvres could Hifumi pull on her mother, before her shogi career ended? Pieces were falling all around her. People dying in the news. Between the good-morning texts, the strings of saliva, dripping heat and sweat as Goro pumped into her between the sheets. . .

. . .when her boyfriend's fingers laced over her chin and into her mouth, was it the echoing flavour of blood Hifumi tasted?

Hifumi did not have the altruism to stop Goro from what he was doing. They both understood how they were similar and different. Actions ruled by the impending paternal swords that hung over their heads. Goro's father who abandoned him by choice. Hifumi's father who might abandon her, not by choice. Chances were closing as the raiding war party of mortality and pestilence, encroached on Hifumi's kingdom.

A week ago, Hifumi lost her three-leaf clover omamori. The ascending Dragon King shifted on the board, opening up a new possible technique. Yusuke Kitagawa returned the omamori to her and offered her a ticket to the exhibition. Now here she was, in an art gallery. Action and reaction.

What if threads of chaos were to enter the shogi board? Something unexpected. Defying authority and rules. Hifumi's awareness lightly drew to the omamori knot she tied on her hair, as she leaned closer to the snow mountain painting.

The red three-clover ascertaining her faith to the Shinto gods. A symbol to remind herself to trust in the flow of things, despite what the doctors said about her father. To know that every moment has infinite potential, ready to weave dreams and stories which Hifumi would never forget.

Or meet someone she could never forget.

Hifumi leaned closer to the painting of the snowy mountain. She quite liked it. There was a coarseness to the off-white texture, almost reminding her of real snow. Was it intentional by the artisan's technique? Hifumi wondered. The scenery conjured up entire sagas within her, straining to escape her mortally boring teenage girl existence.

"Snowy sentinel. Vanguard my Togo Kingdom. Cometh as my front-line defence against the Eternal Dragon. . ." Hifumi muttered.

Hifumi felt her Persona move within her.

 _What's wrong?_ Hifumi thought.

It kept coiling within her. Something was nearby. Unsaid communes passed onto Hifumi. She frowned.

 _A Persona you once knew?_ Thought Hifumi.

Hifumi tilted her head left, still in her hands-on-thighs leaning. Green eyes met grey.

* * *

 **During the first week of July, there will be a ShuAnn Week. I kindly encourage all fans of the ship to keep an eye out for this week. Points from the blog promoting this:**

 **-All types of submissions are allowed, such as cosplay, fanart, and fanfics.**

 **-You can do little headcanon posts based on the themes, too.**

 **-How to submit: You can either tag #ShuAnnWeek or submit directly to the blog!** **You can also submit on the twitter ( ShuannWeek) by tagging it #ShuAnnWeek!**

 **-NSFW works will be accepted, but please submit them at twitter!**

- **Any type of plagiarism or reposting will not be tolerated.** **Don't worry if you're a couple days late. Late submissions will be happily accepted.**

- **If you're unsure what to do for the final day, you should check the poll! All of the suggested themes were wonderful, so maybe you can get inspired by one of them!** **Don't feel pressured to fill all of the prompts, the point of this week is to have fun and show love for our ship**!

 **The themes are:**

 **Day 1: Meeting/Goodbye/Reunion**  
 **Day 2: Touch/Kiss**  
 **Day 3: Sweets/Coffee**  
 **Day 4: Beach/Ocean**  
 **Day 5: Early Morning/Late Night**  
 **Day 6: Future/Family**  
 **Day 7: Free choice**


	25. Love at First Bite

.

Temperature rising. Heartbeat acceleration.

'What is this, a shōjo manga encounter?' Hifumi thought. At least the heroines in a _Lala DX_ magazine had normal reasons, like finding the guy cute or something. Hifumi's reason? Her Persona acting up in a tumultuous uproar the moment she locked eyes with this boy. Whatever flipped the switches, Hifumi sensed strong feelings from her Persona's past, beyond her birth.

 _How do you have a Persona?!_ Thought Hifumi.

Someone who was like her and Goro. . .

Ren raised an eyebrow. Looking between the painting and her. Was there something on his face?

"You. . .OK?" asked Ren.

". . .haa. . ." Hifumi gasped; she tottered forward.

Ren caught Hifumi, his eyes widening upon feeling her burning skin. A fever?

Hifumi closed her eyes. A flush was creeping up her neck. Hifumi hated her body had always been so sensitive as a metaverse user. Goro never had any trouble with the emotions of Loki and Robin Hood. Hifumi did not know if she was weird in this way – or if that was her Persona's fault. Composure had never been this difficult for her before, though. Through the membranes of Hifumi's contract with her Shadow Self, a name slipped through.

 _Calm down. Please_. _Please,_ thought Hifumi.

"Are you unwell? Should I call for help?" Ren asked her.

Hifumi's shoulders tensed up, her fists clenched. A sheen of perspiration had appeared on her forehead.

This was off, thought Ren. He needed to notify someone. When Ren made to move, a hand grabbed him by the arm. It was this girl. Her breathing had stabilised, but her eyes were still closed. How did she know he was moving away?

"No. No help," said Hifumi.

"You're burning up like a sinner in Dante's Inferno."

Hifumi opened her eyes. The grip on his arm tightened.

"You. . ." said Hifumi.

Should she ask him? About his Persona? _That_ Persona. Hifumi knew its name now. This is crazy. What if he attacked her? What would be the strategic move against this powerful person. . .

"Me. . ." said Ren. He laughed nervously.

"Who are you?" asked Hifumi.

". . ."

Hifumi tightened her grip harder. Ren resisted the urge to wince. What was her problem?

"Ren Amamiya. Could you cut that out, please?"

"Meaning?"

Ren nodded to her hand. Hifumi immediately released. Ren rubbed his arm. Hifumi stepped closer to him; Ren stepped back in sync, his back nudging against a pillar. The distance closed between them. There was a light tint of green in his grey eyes, thanks to their proximity.

"Don't. Run," said Hifumi.

For a girl with a gentle-sounding voice, she sure said some alarming things. Ren considered this chic's weird antics. Last thing he needed was drawing the wrong kind of attention here.

"Not like. . .you've given me a reason," he said, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"No. I shouldn't expect someone with Satanael to run," whispered Hifumi.

Ren's face went blank.

". . ."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I know he's your Persona", said Hifumi.

 _!_

"How did you awaken such a powerful entity?"

 _Satanael? Who the fuck is that?_ Thought Ren.

More importantly though. . .she said 'Persona'. Ren resisted the urge to swallow. Oh boy. What was going on? Who was this chic? Ren's mind went racing. OK. Arsene was his Persona. Ren was sure of that as the number of fingers he knew he had. Ren could feel the gentleman thief inside of him right now – who seemed amused by this olive-eyed demoiselle who misidentified him. That did not ease the problem that she somehow knew Ren had a Persona. The conviction in those emerald windows, housed an honest soul. This was no trickery on her part, Ren understood.

This needed to be dealt with.

"I can't ignore you," said Ren.

"No. You cannot," said Hifumi, her lower lip trembling slightly.

What was she doing? Hifumi thought. This was not like her. Was she acting this way because of her Persona's remembrance? The volatile reaction from her body had not completely gone away. Hifumi was trying to hide that.

"Who are you?" asked Ren.

"Hifumi Togo. Y-you're in high school?" asked Hifumi.

"Yeah. Shujin Academy."

Hifumi nodded.

"Kosei High School."

Again, those eyes widened at him.

 _She's scared of me_ , realised Ren.

Ren did not know why, but this girl seemed intimidated by something about himself. What should he do? This was not a conversation to be had in public.

#

"Grand tour over?" said Ryuji.

Ann leaned against the wall, one arm tucked in, the other holding a cup of refreshment Yusuke had brought for her. Her lower peach-glossed lip was at the subject of being bitten on, an epiphenomenon of Yusuke's nude painting proposal.

At the opposite, Shiori lean-sitting against the wall, texting her mother. The corridor was isolated from the rest of the exhibition, leaving just the three of them in sight. This one lead to an alternative exit which Ann asked Yusuke about, after they had trouble rescuing Shiori from an overly hopeful curator.

"It's over. . ." said Ann.

Ryuji folded his arms.

"And?" he asked.

Ann sipped some of the punch juice. It tasted like nectarine.

"Madarame seems to be a nice guy. But. . ." Ann hesitated.

"But there is something off about this whole thing," Shiori finished for Ann; typing her goodbye to mother – hearts and hugs, before pocketing her phone.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't like assuming the worst of people but Madarame gives me bad – baaaad vibes," said Ann.

"I knew there was somethin' crummy about this old prune. Did you guys check the Phan-Site last night? Another post came up about Madarame," said Ryuji.

"I stopped browsing that place. Don't like it," said Shiori.

"Because Mishima is running it?" asked Ryuji.

"That's more of a mild annoyance. No. I just don't want people to have misgivings like that's our official 'Please give us validation' poll. Why is there an approval rating poll? We want approval from the "shitty society" you go on about, Ryuji? It feels ironic with this renegade gig we've got going," scoffed Shiori.

"Can't be all bad. I mean, what's the actual harm with a poll?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori rolled her eyes in a shrug.

"I find it most unnecessary."

"You said there was another post?" asked Ann.

". . .oh yeah! Apparently, some years back there was this pupil who could not bear seeing his own works serve as slaves to Madarame's fame and wealth. Word is, he offed himself because he did not want to live another day under Madarame's control," said Ryuji.

"That's horrible," said Ann.

"Right?"

"Where's Ren? He should be hearing this," said Shiori.

Ryuji scratched his head.

"I couldn't find 'im in the crowd. Didn't you two find him?" asked Ryuji.

Shiori shook her head.

"I didn't see him either-" Ann tossed the plastic cup in the bin, "-I kinda want to ask him about this nude painting thing. Do you guys think I should do it?" asked Ann, rubbing her arms in a self-hug.

"The whole of Japan is going to see you naked. You know that, right?" said Ryuji.

Twin blooms of blushes formed on Ann's cheeks.

"Not that, you dummy! Like I'd let Kitagawa-kun go that far to finish it! I'm talking about going over to this shack Madarame has and learning more, maybe Palace keywords," said Ann.

"I've tried searching for Madarame's home address on the internet. No results. He's a private man. Which I guess makes sense. An artist as popular as him would not want to be disturbed by fans knocking all day on the door. Especially one plagued with rumours," said Shiori.

"Which means our only chance of goin' to where his Palace might be. . ." said Ryuji.

"Is if I. . .if I agree to bare everything to Yusuke. He said he'd text me the address once I say yes," said Ann.

". . ."

". . ."

"Should I do it?" Ann asked, staring at her shoes.

Ryuji hesitated.

"I-I don't know. Shit. Nude painting? I'm feeling preeetty outta my depth here," said Ryuji.

"You know you don't have to do this, Ann. The Phantom Thieves would never force you into showing skin to an almost-stranger, when you're uncomfortable with it. None of us would ever do that to each other," said Shiori.

"That's the thing. I'm not. . ." Ann struggled for the words to describe her feelings. From within her heart, Carmen hummed a halcyon melody, ". . .I'm not abashed about showing my body. It's that. . ."

Both Ryuji and Shiori's eyebrows raised, seeing this side of Ann.

 _I'd rather if Ren is the only one to see me that way_ , Ann thought to herself, but she was too embarrassed to admit it out loud. Which was kind of silly. Not afraid to show skin, but afraid to show her true feelings to the others? Shiho would have teased her about this.

 _Urgh. . .this seriously sucks_ , thought Ann.

There was a lot Ann felt like she was struggling with, ever since Carmen awoke. New questions and complexities – some of which Ann had been able to unravel on her own. Others. . .needed the help of another to help her explore these. . .

Ann swallowed. It sometimes mortified her how some needs felt amplified now. Did the others also feel weird with their Personas? Ryuji still acted his same energetic and unconcerned self. Maybe Skull was even more charged up than usual these days, because of Captain Kidd's electric friskiness.

Shiori was - well Shiori. Ann suspected Comedienne was more obsessive than she let on. There was that sly amalgam of aggression and mischief, contained behind her spunky upfront. Which matched how Yoshitsune's expression came off to Panther, in the metaverse. That was another thing Ann wanted to probe Ren about. Shiori's disposition.

Ann's awareness floated back to the conversation at hand. Ryuji was talking.

". . .still no reply. Where the eff is Ren?" said Ryuji, looking at his phone.

"Probably fucking the brains out of the shogi princess."

It was Kofuki. Tall belt buckled jeans with a tonal ruffle camisole. For all the detestation Ann had for this bitch, she had to admit, the Kosei second-year knew her apparel. The colour of that camisole matched just right with her skin tone.

"Eh? Shogi princess? That supposed ta' be you?" asked Ryuji.

Kofuki simpered.

"No-" Kofuki showed her large phone screen to them, "-it's Togo Hifumi. I was on my way to cutie-pie until. . .well I saw them together. Look at her face. She's so into him. Real shame. Although, I didn't have the heart to interrupt their moment. At least - Amamiya being with Hifumi feels more real, than some people," said Kofuki with a wink at Ann.

Shiori made a mental note to have an alibi story ready for Ann, if the police ever came to her home asking questions about the murder of Kofuki Morishima. The way this thot kept testing Ann's patience. . .

 _Still_ , thought Shiori, looking at the photo. What is Ren thinking?

Ryuji's forehead creased in surprise. Ann's face had gone pale at the photo. Shiori noticed Ann tugging down hard on her jersey's hemline. Oh dear.

The photo was not 100% crystal clear, which meant that Kofuki must have used a zoom-in feature to snap the picture. Yet there were still enough details to easily make out the two people, faces close to each other's, like they were going for a kiss. Ren's eyes were veiled by the curly fringes, his lips parted. The girl. . .this was Togo? Shiori thought. She was the standout in the photo, leaning up at Ren, her face covered in sweat. Cheeks, blush pink.

 _She looks like those old-school actresses_ , thought Shiori.

"Saw them heading together inside the unisex washroom. Door lock sign turned to the red 'OCCUPIED'. Know what that means, aha?" said Kofuki.

Kofuki's smirk almost looked cruel. What was surer than her cruelty, was how heartbroken Ann looked to Shiori.

#

The door closed behind Hifumi. Ren leaned on the marble counter-top, hands in pocket. His jaw was working – tandem to his nervousness, animating the shadows in his cheekbones.

"What are you?" Hifumi asked him.

Ren shrugged.

"Exactly what you see," said Ren.

Silence punctuated the fragranced air in the washroom. The place smelt like artificial lavender to Ren.

"Where are you from?" asked Hifumi.

"Kyoto."

"Parents?"

"Father's a corporate secretary. Mum is a chief technology officer," said Ren.

"You have such a normal background, yet a fallen angel is in your heart. There is more to your story than just some affluent Kyoto schoolboy. Why are you in Tokyo?" demanded Hifumi.

Ren's eyebrows angled down in a scowly glare. Part of him was tempted to take Hifumi into the metaverse right now and quell her intrusiveness with a good fright.

"I do have a Persona, Hifumi. Just not this Satanael that's got you in my private business. Which also includes why I'm in Tokyo," said Ren.

"This is my business because mine knows Satanael! We both sense him in you," said Hifumi.

Hifumi has a Persona too? Interesting. Ren folded his arms, head tilting in observation.

 _It's her_ , Ren realised.

"Do you by any chance, play shogi?" asked Ren.

"I. . .yes. Yes, I do."

Fate chanced his meeting with the shogi maestra. The one Igor told him about, realised Ren. This changed things. Whatever Igor's end-game was - this girl who was virtuous in intuition, was somehow involved. Knowingly? Unknowingly? Ren intended to find out.

"I'm not giving you an autograph. Not until I get some answers. If not Satanael, who is your Persona?"

Ren frowned.

"An autograph? Why. . .would I want that?" said Ren.

"Because you recognise me? From the interviews. Or maybe the photoshoots. How else would you have known to ask me about shogi?" said Hifumi.

The blank look Ren gave her back, told Hifumi this was not the case.

Ren's phone beeped. He checked. Another message from Ryuji, this time in the PT group chat. Telling Ren they would rendezvous at the accessway near Teikyu Building. He needed to leave now. But first, Ren needed to sort this out. Ren said:

"I need to leave now-" Hifumi began to protest, "-no it's fine. I want us to continue this conversation. Look, we'll exchange numbers now and arrange a meet. Anytime after-" Ren paused. If Igor was wrapped up in this, Ren did not want the Phantom Thieves getting involved. This needed to be after-hours of the PT meetings, "-anytime after 7 PM. Is that OK with you?" asked Ren.

Hifumi hesitated.

"Arsene."

"What?" said Hifumi.

Ren held out his phone, the screen flashing velvet room blue and white; Bluetooth contact exchange prompt.

"That's my Persona. Arsene. Gentlemen thief. Anarchist. Call him whatever you wish. You're right, Hifumi. I'm not just some rich brat. Not by a long shot."

* * *

By the time Ren joined the others, he found only Ryuji and Shiori. They both looked grim to Ren.

"Where's Ann? She off buying a crêpe?" said Ren.

"She. . .left for home," said Shiori.

 _Why is she looking at me like that?_ Thought Ren.

Ryuji shook his head at Ren.

"What the eff man. . ." said Ryuji.

Ren frowned.

"What?" asked Ren.

Shiori shook her head a slight at Ryuji. 'Let us not jump in conclusions right now', thought Shiori.

"We spoke with Kofuki," Shiori told Ren.

"OK. . .? Doesn't explain why you guys are acting weird," said Ren.

"She showed us a picture of you making out with this other Kosei chic. What the fuck dude! Are you playing with Ann's heart? Because if you are buddy, I'm gonna have to kick ya' ass," said Ryuji.

Ren's eyebrows narrowed down. They knew he was talking to Hifumi?

"Ryuji. . .no. I wasn't making out with anyone!" insisted Ren.

Ren was mad at Kofuki. Snivelling cunt. Sowing discord within his friend group. Ren reminded himself to tell Kofuki off, the next time he saw her.

"Yeah?" Ryuji said sceptical.

"Did you see me making out with Togo-san in this. . .photo Kofuki showed you?" demanded Ren.

Ryuji's raised shoulders dropped. That took away some of his suspicion.

"No. No it didn't. But. . ." Ryuji trailed off.

"Your faces were quite close, Ren. In the photo. Then she told us the two of you headed into a washroom," said Shiori.

Not good, thought Ren. He found it very important that his friends were as isolated from Igor's plot machinations, as much as possible. It was not necessary to tell them Ren planned to meet with Hifumi later on.

Ren's hesitation in answering brought back some of Ryuji's conviction against Ren. His eyes narrowed at the Phantom Thief leader.

"Well? Did you?" asked Ryuji.

A split-second consideration. Light-bulb. Ren knew what to say. The best lies were made from truth. Within Ren's heart, Arsene slipped an ace of clubs card from his sleeve by sleight-of-hand, chuckling.

"I did," said Ren.

Ryuji gaped at him. Ren sighed, running his fingers through his fringe. Shiori folded her arms, carefully watching Ren.

"Why?" asked Shiori.

"Do you guys know where I'm from?" asked Ren.

They both shook their heads.

"Kyoto," said Ren.

"You mean you know tis' girl?" asked Ryuji.

Ren sheepishly nodded.

"I wasn't in a hurry to bring it up, because I knew you guys would act this way with me. Especially Ann. Togo-san has. . .health issues. I shouldn't say that because that's her private matter, but here's me being forced to tell all of you. We ran into each other by chance, which was when she had one of her near-fainting episodes. That's why I helped her to the washroom," said Ren.

The guilt card. If Ryuji had any reserve now, they were flipped from Ren guilt tripping him.

"Shit, dude. I'm sorry. I didn't know," said Ryuji, grimacing over his earlier outburst.

"It's fine," said Ren, in a tone that he was pretending to keep the terseness out of his voice.

"Maaaan. I gotta stop jumping the gun every time," said Ryuji.

Shiori was not as easily moved as Ryuji.

"Is Hifumi Togo from Kyoto?" asked Shiori.

Ren knew she was testing him.

"No. She's been there a few times. Hifumi plays shogi. You can look it up, she's a bit famous. I met her as an audience at one of her exhibition matches. We're not that close, but I am an acquaintance of hers," said Ren.

Half-truth. Ren looked up Hifumi's name on the way here – learning some things about shogi idol. If the others did the same, they would see search results talking about Hifumi's recent match in Kyoto. It was the perfect cover.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," said Shiori.

"Ann was angry?" asked Ren.

Shiori and Ryuji looked at each other.

"You could. . .say that," said Ryuji.

"After Kofuki mislead us, Ann went to Yusuke and told him she agreed," explained Shiori.

Ren's eyes widened.

"You mean. . .?"

Ryuji nodded.

"Yeah dude. Ann's going to do the nude painting session. Tomorrow afternoon," said Ryuji.

Morgana stuck his head out of Shiori's backpack, yawning.

"Hey, can we grab sushi along the way back?"

* * *

 _Yongen-Jaya_. _9 PM._

Ren sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes. In his hands was his phone. Chat log with Shiori.

_Shiori: Did you explain to her? _

_Ren: No _

_Shiori: You should _

_Shiori: This up and down tension between you and Ann is starting to become ridiculous _

_Ren: I called her number earlier _

_Shiori: What she say? _

_Ren: No answer _

_Shiori: Oh no _

_Shiori: You didn't see how upset she was, Ren _

_Shiori: Don't hold it against her _

_Ren: I'm not holding anything against anyone :/ _

_Ren: Besides, at this point I'm used to Ann being cross with me _

_Shiori: I know _

_Shiori: But it feels different this time _

_Shiori: You should try talking to her tomorrow _

_Ren: Whatever _

_Shiori: What do you mean whatever?! (ಠ益ಠ) _

_Ren: Ann is clearly interested in Yusuke if she's doing this nude painting session _

_Ren: Why should I get in the way of her choice? _

_Shiori: Dude… _

_Shiori: If I was in Leblanc right now, I'd slap the stupid bitch aura outta you _

_Shiori: Ann is trying to make you jealous! _

_Shiori: And it's working! _

It was working. Big time.

_Ren: Pfft. No. _

_Ren: I got more things on my mind than Ann you know _

Ren had spent almost the entire afternoon anguishing about Ann.

_Shiori: Yeah right _

_Ren: Besides…everyone's gotta focus on tomorrow's plan _

_Shiori: …I give up =_= _

In the Phantom Thief group chat, it read:

_Ryuji: What's the plan, Joker? _

_Shiori: Panther is going over to Madarame's atelier tomorrow _

_Shiori: "Tomorrow is an excellent chance for an internal and external reconnaissance" _

_Shiori: What Mona says^ _

_Ryuji: Nude painting huh _

_Ann: Kitagawa-kun and I are going to have sooo much fun 3 _

That was the part where Ren almost threw his phone across the room.

_Ren: …that's nice _

_Ren: I'm sure the it would be good for your modelling experience ʘᗜʘ _

_Ann: Yeap! It's going to be THE BEST :D _

_Ryuji: Will you two lovebirds cut it out OTL _

_Ren: Wtf Skull _

_Ann: What are you on about, Skull! _

_Ren: Stop talking shit _

_Ann: Yeah! _

_Ryuji: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT _

_Ryuji: YOU TWO ARE GETTING PSYCHOTIC WITH EACH OTHER _

_Shiori: Never thought I'd see the day when Skull is more mature than the two of you, in squad chat ( ͠° ͟ʖ °͠ ) _

_Shiori: Anyway…. _

_Shiori: What are we doing tomorrow, Joker? _

_Ren: Here's how it's going down _

_Ren: Panther will be invited in, while her phone is on a loudspeaker mic _

_Ren: That way, we'll know what's happening on the inside _

_Ann: I'll be sure to be loud hehe _

_Ren: …as I was saying… _

_Ren: Mona will be with Panther as support _

_Shiori: "You can count on me, Leader!" -Mona _

_Ren: The rest of us will be outside, on standby _

_Ren: Panther and Mona will be gathering information on Madarame _

_Ren: Through exploring his house and asking Yusuke questions _

_Ren: As this is happening, we'll be outside, testing out Palace keywords _

_Ryuji: Then once we get a destination confirmation, Mona and Panther will pull out? _

_Ren: Oh _sure_ _

_Ren: If Panther's not too busy lol _

_Ann: …I'm gonna kick your ass tomorrow _

_Ren: Go fuck yourself, Ann _

_Ann: Fuck me yourself, you coward! _

_Shiori: … _

_Shiori: Let's save the fucking for later, please _

_Shiori: "We have an important operation tomorrow" -🐱 _

_Shiori: "Everyone get your rest" -🐱 _

_Shiori: "Big day approaches" -🐱 _

* * *

 _Next day_.

School started. Ann did not follow up on her promise to drive her heels up Ren's butt. Nor did Ren answer Ann's taunt from when she called him a coward. Shiori kept a nervous watch on Ann and Ren during class, hoping a rowdy scene would not erupt between these two, lest detention threw their plans out the window.

To Shiori's relief (and slight confusion), the two of them managed to keep it civil – despite the air crackling with tension beyond anything Shiori has seen between two people of the opposite sex. Ryuji kept texting her for a status update throughout the day - to which Shiori assured back that everything was fine "so far". The school day ended without incident. Class 2-D's Phantom Thieves got up to leave for Shibuya, where Morgana would be waiting for them.

"Ren?"

Ren stopped by the classroom's doorway. Mishima had called out to him.

"Yeah?" asked Ren.

"Where are you going? Didn't you see the roster?" asked Mishima.

"Roster?"

"For cleaning duty. Your shift is today. It's there on the notice board," said Mishima.

"What's the hold up?" Ryuji called up from the corridor.

"One sec," Ren said to him, backing into the classroom.

Ren's finger traced the list of names on the roster sheet. Terajima Ichi. . .Ogura Kojuro. . .Ino Togai. . .Amamiya Ren. His finger tapped twice on 'Amamiya'. Would this delay the operation?

Ren's phone buzzed.

_Ryuji: Dude. What's up? _

_Ryuji: I'd enter your classroom to ask, but Ushimaru-sensei is nearby_

Ren typed 'Hold off the infiltration, I'm on cleaning duty'. He paused. No. Yusuke would be waiting for Ann. They did not know if another chance like this would come the Phantom Thieves way. Besides that point - Ren wanted the others to be nearby for Ann, when the nude painting session started. Ren deleted those words. He typed into the team chat:

_Ren: I need to stay back at school_

_Ryuji: Why? _

_Shiori: Is it cleaning duty? _

_Ren: Yes. _

_Ryuji: For real.. _

_Ryuji: All right. We'll hold off the mission start _

_Ren: No _

_Ren: You three are doing are kicking this off without me _

_Ren: It shouldn't take that long anyway _

_Shiori: I guess it would be fine. _

_Shiori: You'll be about 30 minutes behind us _

_Ann: Not like I'll be able to get the Palace keyword clues out of Kitagawa-kun straightaway _

_Ann: Assuming Madarame has a Palace _

_Ryuji: What if he ain't there? _

_Ryuji: If we figure out the keywords quick enough _

_Ren: Text me the keywords _

_Ren: I'll follow in after you guys _

_Shiori: You sure? _

_Shiori: This all sounds a bit reckless, being separated _

_Ren: When have I not been reckless B-| _

The typing speech bubble animation was wiggling from everyone. Until Ann got in her message first:

_Ann: If Joker wants to be selfish, let him! _

The typing bubbles vanished. The others went quiet. Chat killed.

 _Oh boy_ , thought Ren.

A private message came in from Ryuji:

_Ryuji: Hey _

_Ryuji: If Panther guns you down in the metaverse _

_Ryuji: Can I have your Full Metal Alchemist manga collection? _

Ren grimaced. He knew Ryuji was half-joking, yet somehow, it felt like a realistic possibility today. Ren switched to the private conversation with Ann in the IM app.

_Ren: Ann _

_Ann: I'm not changing my mind about the painting, if that's what this is about _

_Ann: Since you don't mind being irresponsible yourself _

_Ren: I'm not going to tell you quit on this _

_Ren: Just be careful. Please. _

_Ren: The only recklessness to all this, is if something were to happen to you and I wasn't there _

"You're Amamiya, right?" said a girl, pushing up her glasses; anime glint.

Ren knew this bespectacled girl by her face. One of class 2-D's students.

"Yeah. You're. . .?" asked Ren.

Ren noticed she was being careful to stand at a distance from him. As if he was a carnivorous eating plant that might snap a head off if someone got too close.

"Terajima. I'm also on duty. Look, we need cleaning solvent for the windows," said Terajima.

". . ."

Her face reddened.

"I would have preferred to ask Ogura or Togai about this, but it looks like they're playing hooky. Do you think you could go to the cleaning storeroom and get a trigger bottle? It's on the first floor," said Terajima.

"Will I need a key?"

"No. They usually leave it unlocked. Besides, umm. . .I'm sure someone like you would be used to picking locks."

Ren resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Real shame. I haven't practised in a while. . .fine. I'll get to it," said Ren.

"Don't forget the wiping cloths too. . ."

Ren glanced back at the IM chat. There was no reply from Ann. For all the conventional reactions any other guy in his shoes would have, Ren could not help but find her silent stubbornness a bit endearing. Ann was a rebel to both society and himself.

Ren considered how Arsene was always experiencing the world through his own awareness and thoughts. Seeing, hearing and feeling the same things as Ren. The experiential for Carmen had to be similar with Ann, right?

Ren typed:

_Ren: Take care of her, Carmen. _

#

_Ren: Take care of her, Carmen. _

Ann's shadow leaned in over iPhone screen. Outside the stall washroom, the sounds of faucets running and gossip echoed a sound stagey quality in the girls' washroom.

"Stupid stubborn Ren," Ann muttered, her face burning.

"Huh? Ren?" said a girl outside.

Ann clamped her mouth. Oops. Outside the toilet stall, the girls continued to chitter-chat.

"Did you say that?"

"Say what?"

"That juvenile kid, Amamiya Ren. Thought I heard his name just now."

"That crazy kid? Nah uh. Not me."

"I think he's kinda cute. Shame about his criminal record though. . ."

"I bet you love those bad boy types, don't you Ishi-chan?"

"I told you to stop calling me that, Yuki!"

"Ishi-chan!"

"Gah! Get off me! And where do you think you're putting your hands!"

Sound of a smack.

"Owww. That hurt Ishi. . ."

"Serves you right!"

"Speaking of copping a feel, did you guys know Terajima accidentally swung her hand towards Amamiya's crotch, while she was chasing me? It happened last week."

Inside the stall, Ann was almost fuming.

Why is it that almost every girl out there was trying to lay a paw on what was supposed to be hers! She thought. At this rate, Ren might "accidentally" trip and fall on some naked Kofuki! Ugly volcanic pools of jealous bubbled in Ann.

"What?!"

"Oh my god! Hahahaha!"

"What did Amamiya do? Bet he took her virginity as punishment!"

"I saw it happen when he was talking to that Ryuji guy. Amamiya just looked at her distractedly, as if she accidentally walked into him or something. Don't think he realised it."

"Aww. I wonder if she touched his boner. . ."

"Ishi-chan! That's scandalous!"

"What? Don't tell me you guys haven't wondered how big a yakuza's dick is? Wonder if Amamiya has a tattoo on his cock. . ."

That was more than Ann could handle. She swung the stall door open in a loud bang, prompting the three girls outside to jump in scare.

"Eek! Oh. . .Takamaki-san. You gave me a fright," said the girl, Ann knew was "Ishi-chan".

Ann stonily stared this prurient girl down, those icy blue eyes like stalactites. Without knowing why, the trio got nervous.

"Uhh. . .Ann? Are you OK? Is your period giving you cramps?" asked Yuki.

Ishi-chan swallowed when Ann stepped closer. Abruptly, Ann's expression flipped, breaking into a sunny smile.

"Sorry Ishikawa. Do you mind. . .? I need to use the tap," Ann said warmly.

Ishi-chan gaped at Ann like a carp.

"Oh. . .oh! Yeah sure! Sorry about that," Ishi-chan tottered to the side.

Ann began to wash her hand. In casual conversation, Ann remarked:

"That was an interesting thing you said there, Ishikawa."

"Oh crap. Did you overhear that? Haha," said Ishi-chan.

"Did you really mean it?"

"Huh?

Ann repeated, her tone still light:

"Did you mean what you said about. . . _Ren's cock_?"

Ann's lips felt delicate and sensitive when she said the last two words.

"Oh that. I guess I get funny with bad boys hehe. He is kinda hot," said Ishi-chan.

Ann made up her mind.

 _If bitches want to be funny, I can be hilarious_ , thought Ann.

Ann left the washroom. If Shujin was analogous to a jungle for a moment, there was a panther looking for its prey.

#

Ren whistled 'Here Comes the Bride', his eyes scanning the shelves of cleaning supplies. Let's see. . .something that was good for cleaning glass-

The storeroom door swung open.

Ren's whistle died like a slowly deflating balloon. He turned his head slowly to the left. There stood Ann, hands on hips.

". . .Hi?" said Ren.

A glossy black-nail finger pointed at Ren.

"You and I are settling this now!" she declared.

"Settling what exactly. . .?"

The door closed.

 _Click_.

Locked.

It registered to Ren that he was alone with Ann in an isolated little storeroom where the only exit out was blocked by her. Ann's chest was heaving. Something told Ren it was not from exertion. A single clear little bulb burned some light in this dim room, its filament coils glowing spark lines – aerial specks of dust caught shares of its lucency. These tiny specks of yellow reflected off Ann's eyes, like micro will-o'-wisps against a night-blue sky.

"Why did you lock the door?" he asked.

"Why do you think?"

"I've found what I was looking for, Ann. I need to return back to the classroom to attend to cleaning duties."

"Shujin Academy could catch fire for all I care. You're not going anywhere."

"Oh? You'd really keep me here to die?" said Ren, smirky.

". . .do you remember the day I slapped you?" asked Ann.

All mirth dropped from Ren's face. His swaying profile stilled.

"I'm going to do that again. So that you'll know how much it hurts every time you push me away," said Ann, her voice getting a little hoarse with emotion.

 _She's on the edge_ , thought Ren.

"Ann, you're upset about what happened at the museum. Let's talk this out-"

"No!"

There were tears in Ann's eyes.

". . ."

"I'm going to hit you. Again and again! Until you give in to me, you hear?"

Ren's jaw tightened.

"It's not going to work. I'm not going to yield," he said coldly.

Ann sniffled. She took a shaky breath, stepping closer to Ren. One hand clasped at the top hem of his uniform jacket. Ann's finger flicked the top button open, freeing the white collar. Ren felt her warm fingers snake around his neck, also grasping the collar.

Ren shivered from the electric-like shock; a feeling of direct-injected current upon his neck. Ren could feel her thumb resting atop his pulse. Ann knew his heartbeat was in rapid-fire.

Ann's eyes also widened on the skin contact. Ren's neck felt cold – yet it turned her skin up like it was on fire.

"You can't hurt me, Ann. Not the way you think," said Ren.

"I-I know. Us being together, stands for you letting me in. . .Which means you'd be handing me the power to hurt you, if I wanted. And you're scared of that. After everything that's happened to you. . .it m-must be fucking terrifying – the thought of going through the hurt again. I've seen it in Arsene's artifice. All that pain and anger channelled. The way his wings curl in protectively around you, whenever Carmen and I come near you in Mementos. I can see it in your face now," said Ann.

Ren was speechless. Ann had him figured out, right down even his Persona's emotional habits.

"So. . .I'm going to force my way in. Until you give in to my love. Bleeding and pleading as you give up all your lies, in this space between us," said Ann.

Ann's other hand raised for the slap, trembling.

"Ready?" she whispered.

Ann's sobs had quietened. Ren raised his chin, a histrionic motion of defiance. On the inside, Ren felt a maelstrom of emotions, threatening to wrench open his sangfroid.

Seconds went by. Ren waited for the hard landing of her palm. Followed by the next.

Until. . .blood was drawn? Ren was ready for that.

The slap did not arrive. They stood in a stillness so fragile, both were almost scared to breathe too hard, lest reality shattered like a fragile glass - leaving them falling into an eternal void in spiralling shards.

"What are you waiting for?" murmured Ren.

Ann dropped her hand, turning her gaze away from Ren. It was Ren's turn to clasp Ann, his thumb pressing onto her chin. Ren returned Ann's gaze back at him but she was still avoiding his eyes.

"You said you were going to do it, but you can't," said Ren.

". . .go ahead. Mock me," said Ann; a hint of pout and embarrassment.

Ren realised something. It was like a contrast slider was turned, brightening Ann's visage in his eyes. Ann would sooner get ridiculed by him than choose to intentionally hurt him.

"Huh? What's wrong with you?" said Ann, looking at Ren's nonplussed reaction at this.

"Nothing. I'm struck by an echo in memory. Something my grandmother told me when I was little," said Ren.

"Oh?"

"Before she died, there was a flower garden my grandma used to tend to in our backyard. Plots of scarlet roses, moonflowers and African violets that grew close to this water feature. In the morning, the night's cool air would always leave dew on the petals of the flowers nearest to the waters," said Ren.

". . .which ones were the closest?"

". . .the roses. It was always the roses. One spring, there was this one rose which stood out from the rest of them, leaning away as if it was the outsider. It almost seemed like a person to me, for some reason. Ha. Silly, I know. I yearned to pick it from the garden. I asked grandma if I could. She told me. . ." Ren cupped Ann by the cheek.

Ann's breath hitched short.

"She told me – _A beautiful rose has thorns_. That was her way of giving me permission, but also warning me that I could prick myself if I wanted it bad enough," said Ren.

"Did you-" Ann swallowed, as Ren's hand slid, fingers curling behind her ear.

"-take the rose?" asked Ann.

A thoughtful expression essayed from Ren.

"I did. Quite impulsively. Before I could change my mind," said Ren.

With that, Ren drew into her. He stopped, just close enough - that their lips were feather brushing. Goosebumps ran up Ren's back. He felt Ann's shoulders shudder. They both closed their eyes. Then slowly. . .their lips pressed. The first kiss. Close and closed.

It went completely on instinct. Another kiss. Slowly, their mouth parted by a slight. Then another. Ren felt Ann's fingers running through the thick curls of his hair.

Something ignited in their cores and surged up – searing heat, which made Ann moan. She pushed her tongue into Ren's mouth, tentative. Ren responded back. Their kiss was deep now. Chemical pulsations of dizzying oxytocin going off in their brains, translating to what Ren and Ann felt as inebriate consummation.

Ann went limp in Ren's arms.

Her knees trembled - going weak, which prompted Ren to lift Ann closer, _harder_ , onto him. Her hands fisted the front of his shirt.

Ren's hand pressed against her back, palming against the fabric, slowly feeling through the layers - the indent of her bra strap. Beneath the hitched-up skirt, Ren's other hand propped her from the under-buttocks, palm cupping against the velutinous mound.

Ann whimpered into his mouth when Ren pitched his knee at the top-tent of her legs. Beneath the inner curves of her ass, Ren's fingers stimulated there – teasing, like the pressing of a piano key. At the front, Ren's knee slowly ground at her most sensitive tender. Ann's belly spooled in molten melting, rising and falling with Ren's rhythm on her.

Breathing in the sweet and spice of Ann's scent, Ren was spinning in his mind. Her breath tickled against Ren's cheek as Ann's lips became responsive. Ren felt the wetness of her tongue lacquer his lower lip before she plunged back into his mouth, feeling and exploring with a hungry, almost desperate need.

 _How. . ._ Ann thought vaguely in her mind.

How was it possible to need someone this badly? Ann knew she wanted Ren for a while, but nothing could prepare her for this surging desire to be drunk in his embrace, the flaming heat in-between them growing stronger and consuming-

Two things happened. Ann's incisor grazed too hard at the corner of Ren's lip, drawing blood. Ann noticed the bleeding sooner than Ren himself, tasting the salty piquance. Ann froze, eyes opening in realisation at her accidental vampirism.

Ann's sudden pause was enough to float Ren's awareness to his surroundings. The deuce interruption was a student walking outside, accidentally knocking his gesturing hand against the door in a wake-up _THUD_.

Ren stopped. Wait. What was he doing. . .this was not. . .

 _Oh no, Ren don't_ , thought Ann, her hands holding his shirt tighter, not wanting to let go.

Their lips broke off. Ren forcefully pushed her away gasping. He stumbled back into the shadowy corner of the room, leaning in, trying to recollect his breath and composure.

"You. . .need to. . .leave," Ren said, his words coming out forced. Angry. Ren was mad at himself.

"Ren no, please don't. I'm sorry about your lip-"

"Lip?" he said confused.

Then as if for the first time, Ren saw Ann in the dim lighting. Her pigtails were almost undone, hanging further down in a rebellious slouch. A corona glow was highlighted at her crown. There were tears in Ann's eyes, sparked up by the lightbulb and their kiss. At her lips was bright blood, lacing in thin venous patterns. Ann was the image of a Nordic princess in his dark fairy tale. She looked so beautiful.

Wait. Blood?

Ren became conscious of the stinging sensation at the corner of his lower lip. He touched his chin, feeling a wet streak.

 _That is going to scar_ , thought Ren.

"Here let me. . ."

Ren grasped her wrist, stopping the handkerchief she slipped from a pocket. Ann tried to jerk her arm out of his grip. She could not.

"Stop," Ren said softly.

"I didn't mean to bite you, Ren."

"I'm not mad about that. You know that."

 _You always know. Too much_ , thought Ren.

Ren could see she was on the verge of crying. He hated himself even more now for kissing her. Of all the days, this timing. . .

"Go. The others are waiting. You said you wanted to do this painting so that we could-"

"I am not leaving you!"

Ren grabbed her by the waist and for a confused (also hopeful) moment, Ann thought he was going to kiss her again. She realised this was not the case.

"No. . .no! Don't you dare-" Ann began.

#

Students in the corridor stopped in their tracks. They could hear a ruckus. Emanating from the storeroom.

"Was that yelling?"

"Oh my. Is that thumping on the walls I hear?"

"Really man?! Here?! I know people were stressed out about exams, but at least get a bedroom!"

The door opened. Out pushed a girl, her pigtails vortexing in a frenzy stumble. She skidded to a stop, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. The door slammed shut. There was a click. Locked.

"Takamaki-san? Why is there blood on your chin?"

"Why does her hair look dishevelled?"

 _Did he just force me out?_ Ann thought, unable to believe Ren's audacity.

More whispers.

"Shit. She looks mad."

"Was there a boy in there?"

"What kind of guy pushes out Ann Takamaki when you're alone with her in the cleaning storeroom?"

#

 _Slam!_

Ren winced. He could feel the door's frame vibrating as Ann smacked it. How sturdy was this thing against a girl's wrath?

"Ren! Open up!"

"No."

"I'm going to fucking kill you for this, you know that!"

 _I love you too_ , thought Ren.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _. . .What did I just-_

"Don't push me away. Not again," pleaded Ann.

Ren swallowed. It hurt his throat to speak:

"I'll see you. . .later. . .Ann," said Ren.

Ren pressed his palm against the door. He could hear Ann's breathing from the other side. Leaning against the door like he was. Ren's hair curtained his right eye, as he rested his head against the door, yearning for whatever scraps of closeness to her. Even if this wedge of a door was between them. Even if he was telling her to go.

#

"I'll see you. . .later. . .Ann," said Ren.

Ann stopped pounding the door. That word. . .This was their wordplay. Her shoulders trembled. Ann closed her eyes, her forehead touching against the door. Only a few inches between them, yet he was too far from her.

 _Not fair. Not fair. We can't be doing this forever_ , thought Ann.

But Ann knew this was also her fault. She pushed things too far, over this painting session.

"Ann-chan? What are you doing?" came Ms. Chouno's voice.

A teacher. Crap. Ann backed away from the door, quickly wiping at her mouth and chin.

#

Ren was back-leaning against the door, listening to the other side.

"Ann-chan? What are you doing?"

"Nothing. . .Nothing! Just exhausted from all the studying I did last week, hee."

"I see. Well I would not worry if I were you. I just graded your paper today. . ."

Ren's phone began to vibrate. It was a phone call. He did not look at the caller ID straight away, not wanting to take the call while a teacher was outside.

". . .was this really about exam's toll?" asked Ms. Chouno.

"Huh?"

"I've been really concerned about you. Especially after. . ."

Ren strained his ears. Ms. Chouno had lowered her voice. The vibrating buzz was not making it easier.

". . .after the faculty heard that the principal was willing to have students questioned about the nonsense Phantom Thieves cards. Your homeroom teacher Kawakami-sensei, others and I had reservations about discriminating the said victims of this inquiry. After all, Kamoshida was sexually harassing you. And we know Shiho-kun was close to you," said Ms. Chouno.

 _Faculty staff are against the PT investigation? Why does Kobayakawa still insist on it, then?_ Thought Ren.

Ren's phone stopped vibrating.

Ren finally dared to look the phone screen. His fingers slipped, almost dropping the phone. Ren re-read the caller ID, blaring in bold letterings.

. . .shit. He should have answered.

"I know that you feel that you cannot speak up in this school, Ann. You might feel that you're an outsider because of how you look. It must have especially been like that when Kamoshida was here. This is also been my fault. Even though you're one of my best students, I failed as a teacher to assure you that you could speak your problems to me. Please know that things are different now. If you have any concerns, you can tell me, OK?" said Ms. Chouno.

"Th-thank you, sensei," said Ann.

Ren waited. The background notes of high school's fanfare of surface noise settled. Ann must have left, being forced to abandon her door-smashing quest while a teacher was around.

 _She's going there right now. To bare everything_ , thought Ren.

Ren sank to the floor, knees curling into himself. Was tonight really going to be over for both of them?

Then there was this missed call. Ren looked at his phone.

' _ **MISSED CALL – DAD**_ '

The Amamiya household had a chilling atmosphere the morning Ren left. The previous night, Ren had gone to bed with his right cheek stinging from a slap. Things were not cherry and sunshine with Keinosuke Amamiya. Knowing his father, Ren knew nothing had changed. What could this be about?

 _He wants something_ , thought Ren.

But what? The steely spoken man who looked like an older version of Ren, projected intense capability and old school Japanese business culture.

" _The world starts and ends with you, boy. Nothing outside will make you a stronger or smarter man. All the courage and all the riches are already within you. Seek nothing from others. Not even comfort. That is for the weak," Keinosuke told a thirteen-year-old Ren, when he asked why his father did not marry for love._

Before Ren clicked on the callback option, his phone began to ring again. Different person this time. But still someone from his parents' world. Ren answered.

"Hello?"

" _Ren? It's me, Yuki_."

His mother's secretary.

". . ."

" _Look, your father was trying to reach you earlier, but you did not answer his call_."

". . ."

" _Then he asked me to get a hold of you. Hello? You still there?_ "

"I am. What does dad need from me?"

" _You need to be somewhere tonight in Tokyo. . .What is your tuxedo size?_ "

* * *

 **It's been a long time coming. Ren's at a point of no-return now with Ann, when it comes to his backtracking. His decision with Ann will be finalised in the next chapter or (unless the word count buffs unexpectedly again) the following. Anyway, thank you for all the reviews.**


	26. Compression

.

"Ahh!"

"How does it feel?" asked Tae.

"It's. . .tight. Warm. Wet," said Ren.

"I can see it is bigger now. You really want me to take care of that problem?" asked Tae.

"Yes," said Ren.

"Hmm?"

"Hnng! Ow. Yes, please," said Ren.

"Much better, my guinea pig. Now hold still. I've never had one this big before," said Tae.

Tae gently applied the hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton ball onto the corner of Ren's lower lip. Ren was sitting on the patient bed vis-à-vis with the goth doctor. While she worked on his lip, Ren had his fringe pushed back so the loose strands would not tickle Tae's delicate knuckles; a motion which made goosebumps travel up the doctor's pale arm, much to Tae's downplayed chagrin. The clinic was closed for the evening, thanks to him.

"That tightening you're feeling is your platelets getting to work. The cut is healing. Normally we don't feel such minute sensations. . .but the lips are one of the erogenous zones on the human body, so it is sensitive there. Especially after. . ."

The dabbing paused.

"Remind me again, how you got this cut?"

"Awua ew a loor," said Ren, struggling to speak while Tae kept his mouth parted.

The dabbing continued.

"Yes. You ran into a door. You're a lofty one, aren't you?" said Tae.

"Hoh-"

"Sshh. Don't move your lips."

". . ."

Tae lightly tutted. She deposited the second cotton ball on the metal dish next to them. The sterling grey surface was mottled with Ren's blood, an epiphenomenon from when Tae fully stopped the bleeding from earlier.

"Does it hurt more? Move your eyes for 'yes' or 'no'. Try not to stare at my cleavage too long in-between, my guinea pig," said Tae.

Ren flicked his eyes left. His vision fell on the black neko-clock Tae hung in her examination room. 5:01 PM. How far had things progressed at Madarame's?

Ren's eyes flicked right.

Tae nodded, satisfied.

"The swelling got a bit much because you left that unchecked during your commute. The peroxide solution I applied will reduce the severity of the scarring. Don't worry, Shiori won't find you ugly since the laceration was contained at the corner of your lower lip. Noticeable but still a smaller profile than a lip piercing, if the medical journal is anything to go by," said Tae, snapping off her disposable gloves.

"Thanks. How much do I owe you?" asked Ren.

Tae shook her head, her mouth curling into a mirthful smile.

"Consider it added to the tab of more trial testing," said Tae.

 _I had a feeling it was that_ , thought Ren.

"Will the swelling go away soon?" asked Ren.

"Shouldn't take long. Give it twenty minutes."

Ren stepped off the stairs of Yogen-Jaya's clinic. Twilight's empurpling sky was hashed by power lines when Ren looked up. Though his mind was not on the scenery. Was his father waiting at Leblanc? Mum too? It felt highly unlikely to Ren. They were both busy people, his father especially. Keinosuke was not the type to bother himself to visit his son during his probation year. Even if the G6 jet would make the trip an hour.

Ren stopped outside Leblanc's door, hesitating. Sojiro was watching TV, his back turned to the entrance.

"Yet he still called me," muttered Ren.

Maybe Ren was wrong? Maybe mum and dad really did come out to visit him. The tuxedo was maybe for a family dinner out at a lofty reservation? A twinge of guilt snipped at Ren for assuming the worst of his parents. All these weeks, Ren's constant fury-driven bitterness for Shido was darkening every shadow in his world, with his friends being the only distinct source of optimism around. Ren considered his life to be a dark comedy with Nihilism Shakespeare and William Pessimism as the playwrights.

Ren pushed the door.

Sojiro turned on the bell tingling.

"Hey kid – . . .what happened to your lip? Have you been starting trouble again?!" asked Sojiro.

"No."

"Then what happened?!"

Ren relived the kiss in his head, the fresh memory still steaming from Ann's sizzling touch on his lips, the way her fingers roamed his hair, grasping his neck, the alive warmth and wet in each other's mouth. . .

"Hey, I asked you something," Sojiro reminded him.

"I. . ."

. . .right at the last moment, Ann had gyrated against Ren's thigh, her pelvis needily driving up against him, her chest pressing, feeling. . .

". . .ran into a soft door," said Ren.

"A what?"

Ren cleared his throat.

"A door. I accidentally ran into a door that was swinging shut," said Ren, tugging his collar.

Was it always this hot in the café? thought Ren. Sojiro ought to check the A/C system.

Sojiro's eyebrows slanted back, unimpressed.

"You ran into a door? Really? That's the best you got?" said Sojiro.

 _What I am supposed to tell you? That I screwed up again?_ thought Ren.

". . ."

Sojiro sighed. Not like this delinquent kid was ever going to make it easy for an old man like him. Sojiro wished he always got straight answers from Ren.

"You've got visitors. They're waiting in your room," said Sojiro.

"Is it. . ." Ren's tone was hopeful, ". . .my parents?" he asked.

Sojiro caught an almost yearning edge in Ren's voice.

The boy wanted to see his parents?

The lines of wrinkles lined heavier on Sojiro's forehead.

"It's not your parents," Sojiro said gently.

". . ."

"There's four of them. Do you know a Yuki Tsuchikura? She said they were from your mother's office. Also mentioned something about you need attending a cancer charity ball, tonight," said Sojiro.

A charity event? That was not what Ren expected. It did not make sense. If a representative from his parents' company needed to be present for philanthropy, sending one of the sub-executive staff would have sufficed. Not their disgraced son.

"Anyway. . .best not keep them waiting any longer," said Sojiro, rapping his knuckle on the wooden counter.

 _Thuk. Thuk_.

* * *

 _Tink. Tink._

Ryuji leaned forward, a burger in his hands. On the table was a steaming mug of dark roast coffee, Shiori's untouched club sandwich, a straw crowned Coca-Cola and a mobile phone - on a loudspeaker call with 'Takamaki Ann'. The mic mute icon was enabled.

"What. . .omph. . .is that. . .oomph. . .noise?" he asked Shiori, in-between bites of his chicken schnitzel burger.

" _Tink_."

Shiori leaned back slightly on her chair, looking down at the road from the open-front café diner _._ Through the glass panes, the brightly lit interior of the diner was alive with a metropolitan energy of customers and hurrying waitresses. Save for a bob-cut lady in a black T-shirt, who was sipping her coffee, Ryuji and Shiori were the only ones taking vacancy to the parasol lined courtyard seatings. Lining the diner's exterior, neon strips burned iridescent in the darkling afternoon, the signages slashing a red touch of glow on Ryuji's bleached head.

Shiori's eyes squinted into the distance, where a blonde figure stood front of the rickety shack building they found as Madarame's atelier. That was Ann. Still at the front door.

"Probably the buzzer," said Shiori.

Shiori's hand paused on the mug when she saw Morgana dart to the nearby gardens, while Ann appeared to be leaning forward. Talking into the intercom? The phone's speaker spoke with a light vibrato of static:

" _Kitagawa-kun? It's me, Ann. I'm here for. . .our painting session_ ," said Ann.

 _She sounds nervous_ , thought Shiori.

"Maybe we should have waited closer," said Shiori.

Ryuji shook his head.

"Nah yo. This recon location is perfect. . .oomph. . .perfect-" sipping noise from the straw, "-it's good we're not. . .oomph... . .too close ya know. . .oomph. . .plus we still know what is happening there through the phone," said Ryuji.

An eyebrow arched at Ryuji.

"Yeah. . .don't gobble that burger too quick," said Shiori, shaking her head.

"It's-" more sipping, "-part of my cover."

"Noticed that?" said Shiori.

"Yeah, I wouldn't touch their sauce too. Too spicy-"

"No. Forget the sauce. Yusuke hasn't answered, Ann," said Shiori.

"Maybe he's not home?" said Ryuji.

" _Guys. . .he's not answering_ ," Ann's voice came in a mutter.

Shiori unmuted the mic.

"Wait a bit then buzz again. If Yusuke does not answer try. . .texting him," said Shiori.

" _Sure. . .Has Ren arrived yet?_ " asked Ann.

"He hasn't. What the eff man. . .I figured classroom cleaning wouldn't delay him this much. Did you try calling him?" said Ryuji.

It had been more than an hour since they left Shujin. They got lost trying to find the address, but eventually they found it. The Phantom Thieves thought the lost time would be enough for Ren to catch up.

Shiori nodded.

"I tried his phone twice. No answer," said Shiori.

Ryuji groaned.

"I dunno what's keeping him, but this sure as hell, is not the best start in going after our next major target," said Ryuji.

Shiori's arms trembled, the tingling sensation on her scars acting up. She quickly hugged herself still, before Ryuji noticed. A rising panic; Shiori bit down her lip, as if to put a lid-stopper of her distress - with Ren not being around.

"This isn't like Ren. Why isn't he here?" said Shiori.

" _This might be my fault_ ," said Ann.

Even Ryuji suspended his loud chewing.

"Your fault?" asked Ryuji.

" _I kind of. . .did something to Ren, before we left_ ," said Ann.

Shiori's eyes narrowed at the phone. Ryuji scratched his head.

"You murdered him?" asked Ryuji.

" _Wha – No! I wasn't that mad at him that I'd go that far, Ryuji!_ "

"You sure about that?" asked Ryuji, sceptical.

" _Oh shush!_ "

"Ann. Did you hurt, Ren?" asked Shiori.

On detecting the warning tone in Shiori's voice, Ryuji choked on the bite he was swallowing.

". . . _I. . ._ "

Shiori frowned on hearing the hesitation in Ann's voice.

There was the sound of scraping. Like a door sliding.

Yusuke's voice:

" _Ah! Takamaki-san. Sorry for keeping you waiting. Please, come in. . ._ "

Shiori tapped the mic mute button, her finger trembling.

"What's up with you?" asked Ryuji.

"What do you mean?" said Shiori.

The deadening quietness in her voice surprised Shiori. It was like the consonants were closing with compression on any emotional articulation, as Shiori withdrew into thoughts louder than spoken.

Over the speakerphone, Yusuke was directing Ann to where she could leave her shoes.

"Back there, you didn't honestly think Ann would hurt Ren, did you? I was only joking about the murder thing," said Ryuji.

". . ."

"Shiori?"

"I should. . .leave. Someone needs to check up on Ren," said Shiori.

"Whoa. . .whoa. Slow down. Look I'm worried, aite? But we need to follow. . ." Ryuji's voice lowered, glancing surreptitiously at the bob-cut lady sitting at the far corner of the courtyard, ". . .Joker's orders for this mission. Look, I'm sure the guy is fine. The last thing we need right now is splittin' up even further," said Ryuji.

 _He's right_ , thought Shiori.

* * *

When Ren stepped up into his room, he saw a coat-rack with three tuxedos by his bed. A man and a woman were fussing over the suits, running tape-lines and comparing the sleeves to Ren's school uniform. The man; a flamboyant air to him, was working a needle and thread on the fabric.

Sitting on the dust frowsty couch (One night, Shiori got into one of her vivacious troll moods, remarking the sofa felt bouncier than his bed) was Yuki; pastel goth meets business attire, with piercings on her dimples. Ren instantly recognised her, albeit her hair had been cut a lot shorter, into a sophisticated bob cut. It was the first make-over Ren had seen from Yuki since her transition-op.

Sitting next to Yuki was a horn-rimmed bespectacled man with stiff shoulders. He looked like the bookish type. Maybe an accountant? Librarian? Ren's stepping instinctively slowed at the look he received from this man. Ren had seen that expression a lot of times, in dozens of variations. That reproachful, disapproving stare that remembered the son of the Amamiyas was still to be treated with dignity, despite his criminal record. Nearly everyone on his parent's staff roll; chauffeurs, the maid, people from the office, were like that to him.

Everyone except Yuki.

"Ren!"

Ren hardly had time to drop his schoolbag on the table before being pulled into a near-bone cracking hug.

"Yu. . .ki. Nice to see. . .you," said Ren, struggling for air.

Yuki released him, her periwinkle hair barely settling from her excited rush from earlier.

"You look different now - wait, what happened to your lip?" asked Yuki.

"Did you get into a fight?" asked the accountant-man, standing up from the couch.

The two tailors who were niggling over the tuxedos, fell silent.

"Tashiro. That was prejudicially presumptuous, don't you think?" Yuki shot back at him.

Tashiro's head turned - like a robot with creaky clockwork - at Yuki.

"My apologies," said Tashiro, although Ren was not sure if the apology was directed at himself or Yuki.

"I had an accident at school. You can ask the doctor at the local clinic here. There was no fight," said Ren.

Tashiro drew his attention back at Ren, those dark brown eyes calculating on Keinosuke's son. Trying to measure how much of his father Ren was. Or how little.

"Ouch. I hope it doesn't hurt too bad. You've always been the type to bruise yourself too easily. Remember when you were 13; you showed up home, bandages on your forehead - with your sports uniform covered in blood. Those kids from Sumaru play really dirty," tutted Yuki.

Despite himself, Ren could not help grinning about that. That was a fun basketball match. Until the end, anyway.

"The match against Seven Sisters High School, yeah. I remember. He didn't mean to elbow me," said Ren, shrugging.

"Hehe. Your mother was insisting you go to bed early, but you didn't want to miss Kyoko's birthday," said Yuki.

Ren's grin briefly faltered.

The mention of his ex-girlfriend snapped open a suitcase Ren usually kept on chains, in the recesses of his mind.

Polaroid photos snapping. Laughter. White sheets. Hushed whispers and caressing. Fast forward to the week he got arrested. Kyoko's teary eyes. Their pictures, burning.

"Do you remember? Kyoko's 14th birthday," said Yuki.

The birthday party. It was winter. Snow. Kyoko had dragged Ren away, in sneaks and laughs. Two friends fell, rolling on the white hill together until Kyoko was on top of him. That was the first time Ren ever kissed a girl. He was such a nervous wreck, Ren almost missed Kyoko's lips.

The casual lilt in his words did not miss a beat.

"Yeah. I remember," said Ren.

"She misses you. You know that, right?" said Yuki.

The corners of Ren's vision darkened.

 _Then why did she break up with me_ , thought Ren.

Yuki never blamed Kyoko Iwakura once for the break-up. No one did, except Ren who did not understand why she stopped talking to him altogether.

While Yuki was a friend to them both, whenever there had been a fight with Kyoko, Yuki would take Kyoko's side first in anything. It amused Ren back then. Now. . .he did not know how he should feel about it.

"I bet you do too," said Yuki.

Did he? thought Ren.

Ren felt the phantom effect of someone's body pressed against his. Her voice, her words, stepping in chassé of brash and infectious warmth.

The dark fringes went away. It felt easier to breathe, thinking about Ann.

"Haha. I knew it!" said Yuki, misunderstanding the hint of smile Ren had.

"Yuki. . .why are you here? What's this about me needing to be somewhere in Tokyo tonight?" asked Ren.

From her purse, Yuki retrieved a black lettercard.

"This. . .showed up yesterday. We always expect the invitation every year. A soirée of important people adjourning for whatever is the 'cool' thing for rich people to pat themselves on the back for. Don't get me wrong, genuine good has come of these charity events. It's just. . ." Yuki trailed off.

Tashiro spoke:

"It has also become Tokyo's hallmark event for prestigious networking. Promises of alliances, arranged marriages-" Ren raised his eyebrows, "-sometimes even declarations of enmity. Most importantly, it provides information. Expect the Japanese stock market to demonstrate unusual numbers to those on the outside, exempt those who attend this function," said Tashiro.

"Normally, the missive is extended to the business name. Your parents used to attend often, Ren. These days, someone else would be sent in their stead instead. Like maybe one of your aunts, or someone like Tashiro here. This year. . .a surprise came in from the organiser," said Yuki.

Yuki turned the lettercard's header to face Ren. Spelling out in a silver flowy font:

 _Invitation_

 _~ Amamiya Ren ~_

". . ."

 _Why?_ Thought Ren.

"You need to answer this invite, Ren. For the obligation of your parents' work and reputation," Yuki said, her tone apologetic because she knew how Ren felt about this.

"For the obligation of reputation. That's kinda funny," said Ren.

Tashiro cleared his throat, coughing into a fist.

"We were hoping you could tell us, why they are inviting you," said Tashiro.

"I wouldn't. . .I don't know. Who is the organiser? Who decides who gets in at this party?" asked Ren.

"There is no clearly defined organisation to name. A very powerful cabal of Japan presides the curation of this event. Whoever decides the invites, is part of this circle," said Tashiro.

"You really don't know?" asked Yuki.

Ren frowned, wracking his mind for what he may have done or said recently. Ren realised his heart was thudding a bit fast now. Was his Phantom Thievery the cause for this invitation? It occurred to Ren that he had no way of telling if a covert law enforcement agency was spying on the PTs phones through telemetry. Their chat messages would be very damning for a conviction in the court of law.

Tashiro drew Yuki away from Ren, to the corner desk of the bedroom. Both of them seemed to be arguing in whispers about something, in-between furtive glances at Ren's direction. Yuki shook her head.

". . .no. No. My decision is final, Tashiro. We're already imposing on him. . ." Ren vaguely heard Yuki say. Sounded like his parents gave her superior authority to Tashiro, for this delegation.

Ren checked his phone. Two missed calls from Shiori and one from Ann. Ren did not want to explain now what was holding him back further. At least, not until he was done with this charity ball.

No unread messages in the Phantom Thief squad chat. Which meant no Palace codename had been found yet?

Ren closed the IM app, returning the screen to the menu. Before he tapped the standby button, his thumb hovered over the Album app. Ren tapped it open. A tile grid of images took formation. Most of what was in view were memes Ryuji would forward him. Ren scrolled down. The images were sorted chronologically. There was one of Morgana sleeping in the window-filtered sunlight, his dark fur catching a golden glow. A photo of Shiori holding two peace signs, at Leblanc's counter; commemorating the first day Ren prepared a curry dish she ordered.

Then came a group selfie.

Ren stopped scrolling. He tapped the groupie.

It was a picture of the four of them - Ann, himself, Shiori and Ryuji, at Shujin's front-gate. Shiori insisted a group photo be taken for luck, before their exams started.

Ren barely spared it a second glance when he took back then, but looking at it now. . .

Everyone except Ann was smiling at the camera. Ren was somehow oblivious to this during the moment of capture, but Ann was leaning on his shoulder with a resting arm. Her eyes were drawn at him, lips slightly parted. The look on her face had a kind of. . .softness. An open, unfiltered gaze of vulnerable adoration directed at Ren, because Ann knew he was not looking.

 _How long has she been doing this?_ Thought Ren.

How many times had Ann opened up around him, while it escaped his notice?

Ren clicked back. Not what he was looking for. Ren kept scrolling down. To dates before 9th April, Ren's first day in Tokyo. The scroll stopped at rock-bottom, where there were two folders, titled 'Old life' and 'Kyoko'. Ren had organised them through an hour of boredom during the train ride to his new home. It also felt healthy to hide away such mementos.

Ren's thumb almost touched the 'Kyoko' folder tile. Ren did not know why he wanted to open this box of memories he put away. It was not like Ren forgot what Kyoko looked like. Far from it.

His thumb retracted. No. There was no need. Ren closed the Album app. Ren was not sure when it would stop hurting, but he did not care about pining away for someone who turned her back on him. Fuck her.

 _That you did_.

Sometimes - Ren hated the voices in his head.

Looking up from his phone, Ren was startled to see Tashiro waiting on him, staring at the ceiling with polite deference for Ren's privacy. By the bedside, it looked like Yuki was briefing the tuxedo tailors.

"Yes?" said Ren.

Tashiro cleared his throat, as if it was a querulous sound he needed to make before Tashiro could bring himself to talk to Ren.

"There is. . .one more delicate matter your parents need your help with," said Tashiro, bowing his head a slight.

"Spare me the euphemism, Tashiro. Delicate matters are endless these days between my parents and I. Given that-" Ren stopped himself, jaw tensing.

 _Given that not even one of them are here_ , thought Ren.

". . .given your felony. I understand. Believe me Ren, your parents wished for a eucatastrophe following your arrest. Maybe this gift is a good omen for that," said Tashiro.

"A gift?"

"Yes. You're getting a car," said Tashiro, then he smiled expectantly at Ren.

". . ."

The smile quickly vanished from Tashiro's face.

"I cannot show it to you now. To be honest, today has been somewhat of a rush for Yuki and I, travelling from Kyoto to here. . .making all the hasty arrangements with the tailors and your transport arrangement and what not. The supercar is still being delivered. Due to arrive in thirty minutes, actually," said Tashiro.

Ren folded his arms.

"This supercar is supposed to be a gift?"

"Yes."

"Something tells me this wasn't my father's idea. Or even mother's."

Tashiro's ears turned pink.

"Since you took it there, no. It was neither of your parents' idea. But they've conceded that this is necessary. You see, one of the new accountants at the office – a recent graduate, still green around the ears and his sense of civic morality, made an 'error' with the numbers. There is a-" Again, Tashiro coughed, like he was trying to get something unpleasant out of his throat, "-black hole for how we need to balance the digits for liquid assets and other kinds. Numerous solutions were proposed. Most of them deemed too risky except one. Which involves you," said Tashiro.

Ren was baffled.

"You're telling this gift is-"

"Really, you should consider it a gift."

"-an accessory for tax evasion?" spluttered Ren.

Such irony, given all the supercilious undertones Ren got from these people for his own criminal record.

"Not at all," Tashiro said quickly, looking back at the tailors nervously.

". . ."

"It's merely a technical arrangement for the books. We do this all the time really. Every company does," insisted Tashiro.

"Is this about the Jaguar? Look, you two can sort this out later. Have the car key delivered to him during the party. Ren is running late. We're running late, Tashiro. Our flight check-in is coming up. Ren sweetie-" Yuki cupped Ren by the cheeks. An affectation Yuki had for Ren, since he was a child, "-I know things have been difficult for you. I wish we had more time tonight. There's so much I want to tell you. Things which have happened back at home since you left. I promise, I'll make it up to you the next time I'm in Tokyo," said Yuki.

"How?" asked Ren.

Those brown eyes twinkled.

"You'll see," said Yuki.

"Here's a tithe for benevolence," said Tashiro, handing Ren over a cheque. Eighty million yen.

Tashiro clipped his coat, waiting by the stairwell for Yuki.

"A car will be waiting to drop you off. And hey. . .look after yourself, OK?" said Yuki.

"Yuki I. . ." Ren hesitated.

There was so much Ren wanted to pour out to her. Ren forgot about the terrible loneliness that had been eating at him since he moved to Tokyo. It was not that his Phantom Thieve camaraderie amounted to nothing. Or Ann. Whatever it was, Ann was supposed to mean to him.

It was seeing Yuki - someone from his old life, which reminded Ren of warmer times. When there was kindness, security and certainty to his daily life. Tonight, Ren was about to be pushed into a cold world of wealthy people, with the forefront knowledge that he was doing it for parents who have not spoken to him in months. And after that, putting his life on the line in the metaverse, while contending with whatever plans Igor had for him. Sometimes it would hit Ren like a baton – how much his life has changed.

"Yuki. You said we had to leave," said Tashiro.

"Ren?" said Yuki.

Ren inwardly swallowed. No. This was not how a man of the Amamiya family should behave. Tashiro and the tailors were watching. The suppression made Ren bitter, but this is what Keinosuke would expect of his son. To face his demons on his own.

 _Damn it._

"Have a safe trip," said Ren.

"Thanks. You take care of yourself, now."

Ren's shoulders drooped when Yuki was out of sight. He flipped the invitation card given to him, where the details of the event were written. Location was at Ico Tower. Familiar name. Ren recalled reading about its opening in the news, some months back. An amalgam of penthouses, offices and event rooms all wrapped up in neo-gothic architecture.

The flamboyant tailor clapped.

"Shall we get started then, young master? Last minute needle and thread alterations will be in order once you've donned a suit. Something tells me I will be heavy-fingered working with. . ." those eyes ran up and down Ren, ". . .this lissome frame," said the tailor.

Behind him, his assistant piped, "I'm gonna need you to take off those clothes. . ."

* * *

 _Madarame's shack._

Yusuke could barely hear the faucet running, as he half-splashed, half-slapped water into his face.

 _Get a hold of yourself_ , Yusuke told himself.

The deadline to complete a new Madarame piece was looming on the horizon, increasing Yusuke's daily anxiety and trepidation. Yusuke did not understand why he was like this. Ann, his saving grace during this dry spell of artist's block had even agreed to his nude painting proposal. Now that she was here, waiting in the lounge with a cup of green tea Yusuke had served her (before he hurriedly asked to be excused), one of his worse episodes in memory, went-off.

Next to the bathroom sink's wheel tap, was an orange transparent canister of dark capsules. They had served as Yusuke's narcotic guardian angels these past many months, but today was an anomaly.

 _Why isn't Kofuki's pills working? Am I not taking enough?_ Thought Yusuke.

Tension bricked at his jaw. Yusuke forced himself to unclench, ceasing the grinding of his teeth. Yusuke did not understand why, but for months now, it was like every fibre of his being was yelling to stop. Stop what?! He silently screamed. What was he supposed to stop doing?!

The pills tremored in the canister as Yusuke clumsily grabbed it, flicking off the lid unceremoniously. He stared at the two-toned pills. Kofuki insisted he should not take more than one, every twenty-four hours. Yusuke shakily released a pent-up breath and dropped out three capsules.

* * *

 _Ico Tower_.

Surveillance monitors stacked on the walls, giving video feeds of the party. The screens gave off a blue-light glow off the faces of two security personnel who oversaw the surveillance. There were two main screens in the centre. The left screen, "A1", had a blank information ID slate, like a driver's licence, but without a photo and name.

Next to A1, was "A2" which was currently connected to the overview camera of the party. It was still early hours, yet most of the guests had already arrived. Dark penguin suits and glittering dresses were about, helping themselves to bubbling champagne, affluent company and fresh caviar.

Keys clacked on the security console keyboard, switching the feed on the A2 screen to the front-entrance, where a limousine just pulled over. Out stepped out an elderly woman in a white-fur coat.

As the woman was assisted by her manservant, a graphical highlight ran over her white-powdered face. On the A1 screen, a bio-data automatically filled out. Kana Suzuki. Age 77. Head of one of Japan's foremost shipping companies.

The crisp 8K video stream was being fed through a state-of-the-art decoder, where a programmed algorithm was using facial recognition technology to assign profiles to every guest entering Ico Tower. Nobody was unaccounted for by the building's A.I. No cyber-terrorist could penetrate its firewall security.

A woman's silhouette emerged in the dark security room, her face still set in the shadows. She wore a deep V-Neck front-split lace dress. The eddied China pink fabric sheathed tightly on her accentuated curvature. Curvatures a certain rookie detective had become intimate with, a few times.

Tiffany affixed her chin on her hand. A Pandora bracelet glitzed three charms on Tiffany's wrist. One was a tiny silver camera, with a diamond affixed to its lens. Her photography hobby. The second was a garnet droplet charm. The red stone commemorated the day she moved from the USA to live in Japan. The third was an enamel apple; Snow White's poisoned apple. What the memento meant to Tiffany personally. . .that was a secret she kept to herself.

"Has he arrived?" asked Tiffany.

The two security personnel looked at each other. They had been briefed by their boss this morning about the party. Including who Tiffany Ellison wanted to be marked.

When they asked why, no answer was given.

'Amamiya' was typed into the building's system. Immediately, A2's screen began to switch, the viewfinder running through camera feeds in the entrance lobby, the elevators, corridors, ballroom. . .

There was a ping.

"Found him," said one of the personnel.

Tiffany leaned forward, her hands resting on the swivel chairs headrests. On A2, Ren was showed shoulder-inclining against a pillar, at a garden balcony. His arms were folded as he stared down at the traffic beneath. Tiffany thought Ren looked rather. . .disturbed? Uncomfortable? Maybe he did not want to be here.

"Why are you distancing yourself from the throng. Shy type?" murmured Tiffany.

"If you'd like, we can send you live-updates of his location to your phone. During this party."

". . .yes. Do that. Set it to every one minute," said Tiffany.

A2's screen switched back to the front entrance. A black Porche pulled up. Out stepped a young man in a white business suit with a violet undershirt. A smug smirk drew when the cameras flashed on him. The algorithm ran the facial recognition highlight.

'Fûtarô Sugimura' said the database. Age 22. Freelance photographer. Distinguishing data: son from a politically influential family, with ties to nearly all of Japan's previous leadership administrations from the last thirty years. From the passenger side of the sports car, a girl stepped out, her floofy auburn hair catching highlight from the camera flashes.

* * *

 **Don't think we ever learned Sugimura's first name in the game, did we?**


	27. Diary of Lady Murasaki

.

 _Roppongi._

Being left to her own devices, Ann expected she would quickly fall to her second-nature habit of staring around idly, into daydreams. . .Walking on a beach, smelling petrichor – maybe with a fictional boyfriend; whoever she was romancing in one of her Vita's otome visual novels. Or maybe a lolly from her sweet collection; those cute little things becoming little caricatures who would beg Ann to eat them as it would fulfil their dreams of sugary annihilation; to which Ann would pretend to reluctantly grant their wish. Or maybe a tiny Ren squeaking at her to eat him. Ann would not mind that.

On this afternoon at Madarame's shack, none of that happened. Ann felt nervous. She could not stop tugging her hoodie hemline. For the eighth time, Ann touched her hair-spray coated hairpins, tiny attempts of vanity check-ups to distract herself from the fact that she was queuing up for a _nude painting session_. The checks did little to calm down her heartbeat, which had taken the personality of a rock concert drum. At her breast pocket, Ann was conscious of the weight of her mobile – the phone call to Shiori's number was still on.

 _It's OK. Everyone's nearby. They're hearing everything_ , Ann assured herself.

Everyone except Ren. That stupidly devilish charming bastard and his stupidly good kissing that left Ann breathless before stupidly ejecting her from the storeroom. After that, Ann wanted to scream, she wanted her mother, wanted warmth, sunlight, hot cocoa, and most of all, she wanted to give Ren Amamiya, Round 2 of the Reckoning. If Ren thought he was now safe from Ann (Cue Carmen's wicked laughter), that boy was dead set wrong.

Only. . .Ren was currently AWOL on their first official Phantom Thief operation. Ann did not know where Ren was. Was it because she bit him? Ann was mortified herself over her accidental bite. Barely the first few minutes of only kissing and THAT happened. Holy shit. What things could happen if they went all the way. . .

"Perfect. That right there is what I wanted to paint, when I first saw you," said Yusuke.

Ann snapped out of her lewd reveries, her eyes coming into focus. Yusuke had bowed back into the room. The auspicious layout of the tatami mats told Ann this was the tea room of Madarame's shack. In front of Ann was a steaming drum cup of green tea which she barely sipped.

"Haha. What do you mean?" asked Ann, catching the skittery falsetto in her laugh.

Ann noted that was something different about Yusuke now. His pupils (Ann noticed just now they were grey like Ren's – albeit lighter) were dilated and there was a sheen of sweat on the artist's delicate features. Yusuke's manner was no longer lethargic, like when he greeted Ann at the door, but. . .somewhat mercurial. Like little shocks of epileptic vims. The way his fingers drummed the table between them. Unsteady blinking. Those eyebrows would not stay still.

"That expression there. . .you had just now. Now it's gone," Yusuke leaned forward, frowning.

"Oh. . ."

"No matter-" Behind Yusuke, Morgana's ears popped up from the corner edge of the doorframe, "-I'm sure we'll sort that all out in the studio-" Ann's jaw dropped when a yellow yarn ball rolled across the hallway, following by Morgana chasing after it. What was he doing?! "-Come now," said Yusuke, getting up.

"Wait!"

"Hmm? Something the matter?"

Morgana's wagging tail was still visible. If they left now, Yusuke would be sure to spot the cat in the hallway.

"I. . .aren't you supposed to like get me in the mood first or something? Or brief me on what poses I have to do?" said Ann.

"Get you in the mood? Don't be silly, Ann. I am not interested in you as someone of the opposite sex," said Yusuke.

"Oh, that's reliev-. . .Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Is that a problem?" asked Yusuke.

"It's. . ." Ann trailed off.

For years, Ann was quite used to guys (and once, Shiho's cousin-sister) being attracted to her and more; to be confronted by a specimen who seemed uninterested completely was. . .

"No. It's not. I guess this is gonna sound narcissistic, but I'm. . .not used to that. Not that I mind! Really. . ." said Ann.

That did make Ann wonder; how exactly did Ren see her? Was he like Yusuke, being attracted only to some abstract quality of herself? The knowing that she was the most attractive girl in the room, grew with Ann like a shadow she barely thought of – yet taken for granted. Now that Ren was in the picture, this shadowed wavered. Joker's enigmas tugged at Ann, keeping her up late at nights. It dawned on Ann that she did not even know the circumstances of his criminal conviction.

Yusuke noted that precious look had returned to Ann.

"I'm surprised you'd oversimplify yourself like that. We both know beauty is an expression, which we are free to pursue in own ways. Capturing your definitions on a canvass is my way of going about it. Why limit ourselves to society's insecurities and cartels of popular thought-"

Yusuke stopped, feeling a constriction in his chest.

Ann noted the tightening of Yusuke's expression.

"Hey. . .are you alright?" asked Ann.

A sharp inhalation of air pulled through Yusuke's teeth in a hiss. Yusuke closed his eyes, feeling his heartbeat palpitate unnaturally. Not good. He needed to last through today for the first drafting.

". . .I'm fine."

"You sure? You look really pale," said Ann.

"I must see through this painting. You do not understand the significance of completing it before. . ."

"Huh?"

Yusuke squeezed the bridge of his nose. Steady now. Focus on the subject.

"She does have a point on poses. I might have to prime her on the basic four," Yusuke muttered to himself, thinking.

"I'm right here you know."

"Maybe her untamed energy might make her an indisciplined model. . ."

"Hey!"

#

" _Hey!_ "

Shadows rotated on the playground, against the setting sun.

Ryuji and Shiori sat at the diameter points of a slow spinning merry-go-round, at the park just opposite Madarame's shack. After Ryuji wolfed down his burger at the diner, Shiori suggested they get closer to Madarame's shack, feeling they might be too far from Ann - if something were to happen.

"Whoaaa. . ." said Ryuji, as the suburb spun in view.

Shiori sighed. Neither of them were properly focused about this. Ryuji being taken by this roundabout. Shiori herself being restless about Ren. It made her appreciate even more now, just how much of the group's organisation relied on Joker's proactive leadership and Mona's guidance.

"C'mon dude. We need to focus on the mission," Shiori said half-heartedly.

Madarame's shack returned to view. All its window curtains were strewn shut from Shiori's perspective, so they could not see what was happening inside. Shiori twiddled with her phone - currently engaged in the loudspeaker call to Ann's number. These two were still dillydallying with trivialities.

"There's not much else we can do right now, until Ann starts pokin' out information from this Kitagawa guy," said Ryuji.

From Ryuji's revoluting view, he saw some food stalls being set up in the distance. Aww yeah. Metaverse shenanigans always made him hungry. Maybe they could grab some grub from there, right after this business. Ryuji continued, saying:

"I mean, what are we gonna do? Random guess the keywords for Ichiryusai Madarame's Palace," guffawed Ryuji.

" _Match found_."

The merry-go-round creaked to a stop. Shiori and Ryuji looked at each other, wide-eyed.

"Was that your Meta-Nav app?" asked Shiori.

Ryuji looked at his phone then nodded.

"Holy. . .shit," said Ryuji.

#

Morgana lowered his head, snout sniffing. Curses. Where did that ball of yarn go? That seam ripper that was stuck on it, he needed it to pick that lock. . .

 _That's the only room in this house that is locked. Strange door too_ , thought Morgana.

Beams of moonlight sliced in-between curtains, into the hallway. Morgana habitually stepped around them, his Phantom Thievery impulses acting up as if they might be laser detection beams in a museum. His paw pushed back at a curtain. Not here. Where was it?

From the living room, Morgana could hear voices. Maybe he ought to get moving quick, in case that lanky one saw him. Morgana leapt onto a window sill, vantage surveying the narrow hallway which was lined with shelves and oddities of art supplies.

His gaze slid past buckets of paint then snapped back between a varnish can and spray-paints. A mouse-tail thread of yellow sneaked out in-between them.

 _There!_

* * *

 _Togo residence._

Hifumi turned a page, her eyes resting on the prose fragments of a court lady in Old Japan:

 _I was in the midst of composing a reply to a note sent by Lady Koshōshō, when all of a sudden, a brisk shower came pattering down. As the messenger was in a hurry, I finished it off with: 'and the sky too seems unsettled.'_

A message tone beeped. Text message from Goro. Before Hifumi could read it, the door to her bedroom slid open without a knock. It was her mother, Mitsuyo. Hifumi hated it when she did that.

"Hifumi, I'm leaving now for work. Be sure to keep an eye – what are you reading?" asked Mitsuyo.

"A diary."

Mitsuyo stepped into the bedroom. From sitting on the floor, Hifumi watched those brown eyes scan the place, ocular circles of mistrust and investigation. Hifumi never asked her mother what it was that made her do this. What was she looking for? A boy hidden in her closet? Cigarettes?

"Oh?" said Mitsuyo, stepping up to Hifumi's window and drawing the curtains wider. Outside, the twilight neighbourhood was canopied under heavy clouds which rumbled. Although it was not raining yet.

". . ."

Mitsuyo tugged the book out of Hifumi's hands, losing the page Hifumi was on. Mitsuyo cursory read the title then handed the book back to Hifumi.

"Be sure you do not waste too much time on irrelevant material. I don't see what useful things that dead woman would have to say. Classical Japan is meaningless to your career," said Mitsuyo.

 _According to you. You're the one who decides what's meaningful for me_ , thought Hifumi.

"Yes mother."

"Did you do your skincare beauty today? Your facial tones looked unnatural in the last magazine interview," asked Mitsuyo.

"I did."

"But you didn't answer your fan mail, did you?"

A keynote of resentment twanged in Hifumi.

"Hmph. Thinking about it now. . .those odd tones may have been the publication's photoshop artist doing a butchered job. I'll have to call them about that. . ."

While Mitsuyo was talking, Hifumi discreetly checked Goro's message. He was inviting her over to his place. Hifumi looked at the evening time. These mature hours with her boyfriend were usually spent playing shogi. Or messing each other's' faces with flour, laughing, as they tried to bake a cake. Or. . .

"I find it important the public sees your honest charm. I answered some of your fan mail for you earlier today, since you neglect those. All of them from men. They really don't hold back in these letters, with their admiration. As expected, most of them don't care much about shogi, but more about your – what was the word that one admirer used. . .? Ah yes-" Mitsuyo smiled, pleased with herself, "-'angelic innocence'. You're that bastion of redemption all these single men cling onto, in hopes they might marry a pretty girl like you. Which is why they project onto you. Your singlehood status is the pillar of their desires," said Mitsuyo.

 _That is why I don't open their letters_ , thought Hifumi.

"By the way, are you interested in knowing your schedule for next week?" Mitsuyo asked her casually.

Hifumi knew what Mitsuyo was doing. This was a test.

Goro briefed her about this tactic. A couple of weeks into their relationship, after he solved a case by catching the stalker culprit who was sending threatening messages to an idol girl group - the ace detective learnt a few things about the industry. A common practice in the showbiz was for the idol's agent to keep her in the dark about their own timetables, even if it meant holding off until the end of the day to announce tomorrow's schedule. Magazine interviews, appearing on TV variety programs, exhibition shogi matches; events which required Hifumi to spend indefinite number of hours at zigzagging locations, making rendezvous with another person, difficult.

The moment Hifumi betrayed the slightest inquiries about her schedule, way in advance than what her mother usually told her, Mitsuyo would then know Hifumi is seeing a secret-boyfriend. As far as her mother was concerned, the entirety of Hifumi's life was going to Kosei, furthering her 'shogi career' and helping out at home. Even friends were supposed to be an afterthought.

"You want me to accompany dad to his doctor appointment next week?" Hifumi asked, sounding unsure but relaxed.

"Doctor's appointment? No. . .he does not have one next week," said Mitsuyo.

Hifumi shrugged indifferent.

"Oh. I must have misheard him the other day. . . " lied Hifumi.

Mitsuyo frowned. Well, at least that confirmed to her that her daughter was not seeing a boy.

"I'm leaving now," Mitsuyo leaned in to kiss Hifumi on her forehead. Hifumi only owl-blinked back.

At the door of Hifumi's bedroom, Mitsuyo paused - hesitating. Despite how skewed things had become between mother and daughter, despite Mitsuyo being oblivious to the fact that she was forcing her little darling into showbiz, to anaesthetize the bitter regret she felt about her own broken dreams - these twists, tangles and stretches did not snap the invisible thread that was a mother's intuition. Mitsuyo had noticed for months now, that her teenage daughter was surprisingly compliant on the no-boyfriend rule. At other little things, Hifumi would sometimes show defiance but not at this. Mitsuyo remembered what it was like to be her restless age, growing up, the hormones, the urges, curiosities and _boys_.

Was Hifumi really that different from herself when she was sixteen? Mitsuyo wondered.

"Something wrong, mum?" asked Hifumi.

Mitsuyo turned. There, Hifumi sat in seiza with an open book in front of her. Her daughter was the perfect image of innocence and obedience.

Mitsuyo realised with a small touch of sadness that her daughter was very different person and maybe because of that, they would never be close to each other. Yet how could Mitsuyo complain? If Hifumi was more like herself at sixteen, there would be defiance.

"Nothing. Don't wait up for me. It's going to be a 12-hour shift, so I won't be home until tomorrow morning. Your father is already asleep. I. . .Goodnight, Hifumi," said Mitsuyo.

Hifumi nodded.

 _She expects me to stay home, like her good little girl_ , thought Hifumi.

After a minute, Hifumi heard the front door close. Mitsuyo was on her way to the nightclub in Kabukicho. Hifumi looked at Goro's message, feeling a vorticose rising of heartburning, luxuria and neediness.

Rebellion. Also rebellion. Mitsuyo was wrong. Hifumi was very much an extension of her mother and more. She typed her reply to Goro:

_Hifumi: Getting ready. _

_Hifumi: See you tonight… _

Hifumi paused at Lady Murasaki's diary. Before her mother interrupted her, she was about to read the following passage.

 _After dark, the messenger returned with a poem written on a strongly perfumed and dark purple cloud-patterned paper:_

 _The dark sky dulls my dreamy mind,_

 _The down-dripping rain lingers–_

 _O my tears down falling, longing after thee!_

* * *

 _Roppongi_.

"OK, OK. Remind me again, how this works?" asked Ryuji.

"With Kamoshida, we needed his name. Over here you basically confirmed our second target has a Palace, by speaking: _Ichiryusai Madarame_. Then comes. . ." said Shiori.

 _The location, which is. . ._ thought Ryuji, turning to Madarame's home.

". . .Shack?" said Shiori.

" _Keyword confirmed_."

"Yo. . .this is too easy. Maybe we can tell Ann it's okay to pull out? At this rate we'll have all the keywords from pure guessworkin'," said Ryuji.

"Only one keyword left. Hmm. . ." said Shiori.

"Crap. It's starting bug me that Ren isn't here yet," muttered Ryuji.

"Still want to have a guess at this?" asked Shiori.

"What was the third word supposed to be?"

"I think Morgana explained it as how the distorted, views the world around them."

"Kamoshida's was a 'castle'. . ." said Ryuji.

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

"Jail?" said Ryuji.

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

"Urgh. . .'warehouse'! 'Guidance counsellor office'! Might as well add 'farm'," said Ryuji.

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

"C'mon Ryuji. It's obvious," said Shiori.

"Is it?"

"Yeah. Like a low hanging fruit. The Phantom Thieves' second target is an artist," said Shiori.

Shiori opened her IM app and composed a message to the squad chat:

_Shiori: Ann, it's okay to leave Madarame's atelier _

_Shiori: Ryuji and I just guessed all the keywords right. _

_Shiori: It's 'Ichiryusai Madarame'. _

_Shiori: 'Shack' and _

"An 'art store'. . .? No wait-"

" _Invalid_ _key search_."

"-I know, stupid app! It's. . .'museum'," said Ryuji.

_Shiori: 'Museum' _

" _Destination confirmed. Beginning navigation_."

"Wait. What? Now?!" exclaimed Ryuji.

The world's definition fuzzed. Shiori saw a swing set warp, contract then expand. Ryuji's profile began to swim. Light into darkness. Clarity into unknown foldings. They were entering the Madarame's Palace.

#

"Once we're done with today's session, I'll need the depository information for your bank account," said Yusuke, sliding open the door into his painting studio.

"Why do you need that?"

Yusuke looked at her like she was the strange one.

"To pay you, of course. That is how it works between us professional painters and models. You didn't think I was asking this from someone I barely know, as a free favour?" said Yusuke.

"Oh! Right. . .I mean! Yeah! I knew that, hehe. . ." Ann laughed nervously.

The flustering Phantom Thievery infiltration made Ann so caught up in the pursuit for more information on Madarame, that she almost forgot her formalities as a part-time professional model herself.

"How much is the pay supposed to be, anyway?" she asked, curious.

"The Madarame Foundation is a wealthy one-"

 _Despite this shack for appearance?_ Thought Ann.

"-you will be paid three million yen in entirety. That's one-point-five in advance, one-point-five upon completion. Is that figure to your suitability?" asked Yusuke.

The most Ann had ever earned from a modelling session, was when she did a whole-day shoot for Issey Miyake's Autumn 20XX line-up. Thanks to her sponsorship status, Ann earned four million yen from that gig alone.

Ann nodded, to buy easement and time from Yusuke. It would not have mattered if the foundation was paying three, double or a hundred million yen. Today was not going to go how Yusuke expected. No boudoir art. Not with him.

Ann stepped into the painting studio. The room was not too big. Coloured splatter dots littered the wooden floor. An easel stood sentinel against a red velvet chaise, which Ann assumed was intended for her to pose on. Her heartbeat accelerated. This was the part where she was supposed to ask Yusuke for more information on Madarame-

Ann's phone message pinged. The Phantom Thieves group chat:

_Shiori: Ann, it's okay to leave Madarame's atelier _

_Shiori: Ryuji and I just guessed all the keywords right. _

_Shiori: It's 'Ichiryusai Madarame'. _

_Shiori: 'Shack' and _

_Shiori: 'Museum' _

Yusuke eyebrows twitched, noticing the spot Ann was standing on. That was where he and Kofuki did the. . .

"Ann. Perhaps you could stand here instead?" suggested Yusuke, gesturing to another nondescript spot in the room.

"Huh?"

Yusuke coughed.

"I. . .err. . .sometimes invite Miss Morishima here and we. . ." Yusuke trailed off, a sweat drop at his temple.

Ann half-lidded her eyes, unimpressed.

"You fucked that thing?"

"Thing? If you mean Kofuki then yes. We sometimes indulge in voluptuaries and…must you stand there?" asked Yusuke.

Ann wished a naked Kofuki was still here, so she could shove her stiletto into that demon's abyss. Still, she complied with Yusuke's fidgety motion, standing closer to the easel.

"Now then, I suppose this is where you undress-"

"I'm sorry, Yusuke. The real reason I came here today-"

There was a loud crash outside the studio. Like porcelain shattering.

"What was that?!" asked Ann.

 _One of sensei's Satsuma's pottery? Oh no_ , thought Yusuke.

Yusuke grabbed a paintbrush, holding it like a dagger.

"Wait here. If it's a burglar and I die in the altercation, please attend my funeral wearing a dark sundress. It would make for the most aesthetic picture of melancholy," said Yusuke.

"Excuse me?!"

Yusuke raised a finger to his lip and meandered away, shutting the door behind him. Barely five seconds after Yusuke was gone, the door opened again – in came a black cat.

"Mona?"

"Quick. We don't have much time, Ann. I need your help with this accessway. I've managed to pick the lock itself, but that latch high up is too far for me to reach," said Morgana.

"Accessway? What are you talking about?"

"There's this curious looking door further down the hallway, with peacock feather patterns and all. It's the only locked room in this entire house and get this, I sensed a weak cognition distortion, while I was picking the lock. It did not – look like Mementos," said Morgana.

"Which means. . ."

"Exactly. Someone who lives here has a Palace. And I'm betting that 'someone' is Madarame!"

"They've already found his keywords, Mona. Skull and Comedienne," said Ann, showing her phone screen to Morgana.

"Which means it's alright for us to leave now," added Ann.

Saying that, Ann felt a twinge of regret. What about Yusuke? She thought. Ann found the boy strange and yet, there was a moment with Yusuke which reminded Ann of Shiho. Earlier on when Ann asked him if everything was alright, there was a sense of déjà vu when Yusuke claimed nothing was wrong. Strange undercurrents in his voice which Ann's intuition picked up on. Things were not right with Yusuke. Big time.

"But I really want to see what's in this room. My instincts tell me it's important. Please Lady Ann. Please," pleaded Morgana.

Ann's phone pinged. Text message from Yusuke.

_Yusuke: How strange. I found a shattered vase yet there seems to be no one else in the house but us. Maybe it was a stray breeze? I do not know _

_Yusuke: I'm cleaning up the mess and will rejoin you shortly. I apologise for the delay. _

_Yusuke: Sensei, will be home soon too. From the exhibition. I think it will do good if he catches us busy at the painting's making. He…would like that. _

"Well?" asked Morgana.

Ann made up her mind. Maybe she was wrong, but Ann was not going to leave any stone unturned here. Maybe this door would give them a clue for what Yusuke was struggling with.

"Lead the way, Mona," said Ann.

The hallway was empty when they stepped out. Yusuke was not back yet.

"Right this way. Down the hallway, second left turn then right. You won't miss it," said Morgana.

"Let's hurry," whispered Ann.

Morgana raced ahead of Ann, dashing out of sight. Right as Ann was about to round at the corner herself, a voice called out to her, making Ann freeze in her tracks.

"Ann? Where are you going?"

Ann swallowed. Think fast, girl. They could not arouse the wrong kind of suspicion now.

Ann slowly rotated on her heels, tugging effeminately at her hoodie zipper. From the opposite end of the hallway was Yusuke – the two of them stood equidistant with the studio's door between them.

 _What is she doing?_ Thought Yusuke.

 _OK. . .just like Faye Valentine in Cowboy Bebop. Remember her feminine wiles, Ann?_ She thought.

A breath of exhale. Carmen fluttered her eyebrows, waving her satin fan.

 _What if you fail?_ Came a doubt.

Fold and rapped, Carmen struck the thought away with the head of her fan, unfolding just as smartly in a quick practiced gesture. Ann's got this.

Ann leaned forward, making sure Yusuke could better see her hand on the zipper up on her chest. To will her cheeks into a blush, Ann thought up lascivious kindlings of Ren. Ren! Honestly! How was she so well practised in thinking like this about him?! Ann wondered half-mortified, half-excited.

"Hey. . .your sensei's coming back soon, right?" Ann asked, demure.

The pallor on Ann's cheeks shifted with an immediacy. What colour is that? Yusuke thought. Rose quartz? How did she did summon tincture with such ease?

"Y-yes," said Yusuke.

The zipper slowly went down, revealing the white of Shujin's blouse like the foaming after-current of a boat zipping through a black ocean.

"Do you think. . ." Ann bit her lip, taking off her hoodie slowly, lowering her chin, ". . .we could do this. . .deed somewhere else then?"

Ann held out her jacket in front of her, slowly backstepping. The dark fabric omitted her view of Yusuke from the opposite side of the hallway. When she dropped it, for a brief hallucinatory moment, Ann almost thought it was Ren in Yusuke's place. The image wavered, blue mixing with black. Light and darker shades of grey eyes. Her imagination was notched up higher than Ann bargained for.

 _No. No. Keep playing. That is Ren_ , Carmen crooned to Ann; her Persona playing seamstress, weaving emotions and sequined thoughts into a dark exotic tapestry in Ann's inner psyche. This was Carmen's way of capriciously fulfilling Ren's request.

Further down the hallway, Ann backstepped. Almost to the end.

"A little more atmosphere would be lovely." _Ren_.

"The atelier should be good enough," Yusuke said slowly.

Yusuke clutched his head as the drugs throbbed another headache. He kept his gaze locked on Ann though, unable to tear at this fabric of fascination. There was a juxtaposed contradiction in his model now. Like symmetry angles flipped upside-down, showing strange patterns. Shadows pulsed and darkened. As the psychotropics escalated in Yusuke's bloodstream, the rest of the world faded away, until it was just himself following Ann in a narrow passage of light. Was he still looking at Ann? Yusuke wondered. Was she still looking at Yusuke?

"Wouldn't a room with a lock be better? Like that storeroom we were in?" said Ann, her voice sounding so distant and lightheaded to her own ears.

Yusuke followed her like a sleepwalker, his mind in a haze.

"A lock. . ." muttered Yusuke.

Locked room. . .There was only one of those in this house. . .but. . .but. . .

Ann crash walked into a wall and giggled. Ann's pupils were alight by something raw and primal which Carmen serenaded out. Ann kicked out her heels, tossing them at Yusuke who barely blinked when the shoes bounced off his chest.

In Yusuke's psychedelic vision, Ann's eyes were electric-blue to him, like that of a faery. Daring him. Taunting him. Giant mushrooms and flowers grew at their feet. Yusuke stumbled and fell. A sooty butterfly fluttered past, its wings tickling his nose. Somewhere in the distance, Yusuke heard a man calling out his name, announcing he was home.

 _That person calling me. It's important_ , thought Yusuke.

But all thoughts of that went out of Yusuke's mind when Ann cupped at his cheeks.

"Why don't we. . .do it in here, Ren?"

Yusuke hesitated. This other person's name barely registered in his foggy cognition.

"But sensei said. . ."

"Pleeease…? I wanna be alone with you-" Ann pouted, rubbing his hair, "Somewhere quiet. You know, where we won't get interrupted like last time. Do you know how it's sooo frustrating how my feelings aren't getting through to you!"

"Ann. . .I don't. . ."

"Ren, do you not like girls like me. . .? Most guys would kill to be the apple of my eye, you know," said Ann, playfully prodding Yusuke's nose.

Again, that elderly voice called Yusuke's name. What was going on here. . .

Ann's voice lowered into a smoke and husky whisper, those hands cradling him by the jawline:

"Fall. . .in me. Here. Inside my heart, I'm the one who wants to love you more. I'll give your demons dignity. And then maybe, we'll see if you have what it takes to pursue beauty to its lair," said Ann, with a wink at the end.

Ann's features wavered, replaced by Sayuri's. All doubts immediately cleared. Yusuke rose, as if she were a powerful magnet and followed Sayuri to the gate with ostrich feathers. The forbidden land his sensei warned him to stay away from. To it, one dizzied, one flirted; each caught in their own versions of psychedelic yearnings for what was denied to them.

"We can continue this. . .inside. Inside of me, Ren. . ."

* * *

"We totally eff'ed up, didn't we?" said Skull.

Comedienne tapped numerous times at the 'EXIT' icon on her Meta-Nav app. The button was greyed out and unresponsive. What a troll app. Skull had given up earlier on trying with his app and resigned to staring at the gaudy golden glazed museum, its searchlights swaying on the eerie blue sky that spun. Shiori sat on a car bonnet in the faux-carpark, trying to work the nav-app.

"Panther and Mona are probably looking for us right now. How long do you think it will take for em' to work out we're in this oddball's Palace?" asked Skull.

Comedienne gave up on the spamming the 'Exit' command. They were stuck here for now.

"I'm sure Mona will bring it up," said Comedienne.

"Not workin' for you too?"

"Mmhmm."

"Unreal. . ."

They watched the superficial queue of visitors outside this golden museum. Ryuji quickly got bored of watching these fake things, their looping mannerisms reminding him of NPCs in open world RPGs.

"Hmm. What do I want to do. . ." said Skull, scratching his head.

"What do you mean?"

"C'mooon Comedienne. It could be ages until the rest of the gang join us. I'm itchin' to go at it. Let's stretch our legs," said Skull.

"There's only two of us," she pointed out.

"Aaand? You hardly look worried to me. Look we don't need to go in there guns blazin'. We'll just do a lil' bit of scouting here, quietly tap out a shadow or two if they come our way. Maybe we might find one of them distorted rooms, Mona goes on about. Could be our ticket out of here," said Skull.

"Safe rooms."

"Yeah."

". . ."

"Look, we'll be fine. Our electric powers will be combined. I can tell Yoshitsune is the main source of that lazy confidence you got, whenever we're out here," said Skull.

Comedienne was not worried about being mortally endangered at present. What did give her a pause was this further division the Phantom Thieves were in, for this operation. Mona and Panther were still in the real world. Skull and herself were here. And Comedienne had no idea what was going on with Joker. Would going forward worsen this?

Skull had some good points. At least, if they saw too much heat along the way, the two of them could always retrace their steps back here. And it was not like this was going to be like their first excursion into Kamoshida's Palace, where they were unarmed with no Personas.

"Okay, Skull. You talked me into it. But – I'm calling dibs for alpha. We're doing things my way," said Comedienne.

"All right! I'm gonna bust loose!"

Comedienne and Skull platformed off a parked truck and scaled the museum walls. Once they were in, they found themselves a maze-way of paths surrounded lush foliage gardens, lit up ethereally by ground lights. Crickets chirped. Stone arabesques statues stared down at water fountains. Some of these statues were light grey, well within illumination. Others were Greek shadows, eclipsed by the dense trees near them. Comedienne squinted at these trees. It would be hard to tell from here if there were security cameras wired in those dark branches. Or anything at all.

The padding footsteps of security guards could be heard through bushes. If they were going to be stealthy about this, their choices of pathways were limited.

#

Within the humid darkness in one of those trees Comedienne spied, a green snake observed the two new intruders. It watched their flighty jumps, from one platform to another, unaware of their audience.

The branches shook. Leaves fell. Thick powerful arms with a tiger's stripes lowered a large body for a better view at these two newcomers. The snake withdrew back as the Shadow's tail. A monkey's head. A tanuki's body. This was the Japanese chimera, Nue. Those red eyes were two dots of glow on his black face. Nue noticing the fragile forms of these intruders. The juggernaut-strength Shadow fantasized what it would be like to crush them like twigs. There would not be a thing they could do to stop it.

Black clouds enveloped Nue. One of his shape-shifting abilities. Nue transformed completely into inky vapour and took to wispy followings of the two Phantom Thieves.

* * *

 _Ico Tower. 7:07 PM._

The retainer came rounding about, holding a silver platter for the charity donations. Ring studded hands dipped in, placing cheques with long tails of zeros. While the retainer nodded and murmured thanks within the throng of ball guests, a shawled woman was up on stage, giving lofty words on how it was humankind's unavoidable instinct to help another blah blah, quotations from a philosopher, more blah blah. Ren was quite bored of it all and impatient to leave; only waiting on the retainer to arrive his way so Ren could drop the cheque.

Again, that dull throb from the corner of his lip intruded into Ren's thoughts. Ren gingerly touched the spot where Ann bit him. At some point in the evening, Ren realised he had no right to be mad at his parents, after being just as cold to the girl he cared so much for. Kissing Ann then pushing her away. Who does that?! Ann probably hated him. His deprived dick hated him. Ren hated himself.

 _Maybe I'm more like my father than I thought_ , Ren thought miserably.

An applause erupted, telling Ren the droning speech was over. The violinists started their dulcet undertones of ambience, defining the mood for the evening. A mellisonant chatter picked up, wine glasses tinkling and soft laughs.

Finally the retainer came his way. Ren nodded to him and deposited his parents' contribution to the cause. Time to jet.

Ten minutes ago, Ren saw Shiori's message for Madarame's keywords. Ren checked the time on his phone as he navigated through the back-channel of the guests, being careful to avoid eye-contact so others would get the hint. Ren's mood was not in the taste for pleasantries. Especially with how unbelievably late he was in reconvening with the others.

Ren entered the long hallway leading to the elevator, his dark shoes squeaking on the marble flooring. Almost out. . .

A hand caught Ren by his arm sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. It was not a hard grip, but there was a firmness that pressured determination.

"Leaving so soon, Amamiya-san?"

Ren regarded the delicate long fingers. They were larger than a typical Japanese woman's hand. A Pandora bracelet adorned the swarthy wrist. Ren noted the charms. Camera, garnet and apple. His gaze travelled up a svelte arm, to red lipstick contours in a half-wanton, half-pouty pucker. Then focused on the rest of her. A mature elfin woman; a western foreigner. Not a stereotypical blonde woman like in most anime, but raven-haired.

 _She's familiar. . .where have I. . .?_

"Forgotten me already, have you?" she said.

This voice. The phantom smells of coffee and curry brushed Ren's nose. Sojiro talking. Then. . .

x

" _You're a part-timer here?" Ellison asked Ren._

 _Ren looked up from his phone._

" _Yes."_

" _What's your name?" asked Ellison._

 _Ren hesitated. There was something artificial about this woman's bantering. Nonetheless, he had to answer. Sojiro would not appreciate him being rude to Leblanc's patrons._

" _Ren Amamiya," said Ren._

x

"No. . .I remember you. You're one of Sojiro's customers," Ren said slowly.

In his mind, lines were trying to connect encounter dots to one another. This one was connecting to a question mark, instead of another dot of conclusive understanding. How did that conversation in Leblanc lead to Ren meeting this woman in this party of all places? Was this a coincidence? Or not? A nervous flutter flopped in Ren's stomach and it was not the romantic kind.

Ellison nodded approvingly.

"Ball was not to your fancy?" asked Ellison.

It took Ren a few seconds to translate the lingo expression. Ellison was almost directly importing English expressions into her spoken Japanese.

"It was fine. It's just I have to leave now because I have homework," said Ren.

"Oooh. Diligent student, aren't you?" teased Ellison.

"I wish. Ha."

"Are all Shujin students the responsible type? Are there any-" Ellison's hand trailed down Ren's arm and took his hand in clasp, "-any bad boys?"

Ren's polite smile froze into a mask. Ren had only ever told Ellison his name. Never the school he attended.

Ellison continued speaking, unperturbed by the betrayal of her insight, "I heard about the coaching abuse scandal. Those poor students. I hope you weren't implicated in Suguru Kamoshida's cruelty. Were you?" Ellison asked.

"The volleyball students were the principal victims. I was not part of the team," said Ren.

"That's relieving. It would have bothered me _if something happened to you specifically_ ," said Ellison.

". . .Was there something you wished to discuss?" asked Ren.

"Yes. . .a package came in for you, during the party. The delivery of a Jaguar coupe and its keys. The vehicle is parked in the underground garage as of now. As for the keys, the courier had a hassling time getting them to you, due to the strict security and invitation protocols we enforce in this tower. I personally ended quarrel between security and the courier, and took it upon myself to receive the keys on your behalf," said Ellison.

"Oh. Thank you," said Ren.

"Unfortunately, I _forgot_ -" there was an intonation to the word, that made Ren understand this was more than a memory lapse, "-them in my office. Would you be a gentleman and accompany me there, please? I'm sure it is the least you can do for the favour I pulled in," Ellison said delicately.

Ellison wanted something from Ren.

 _Oh my god. It was her. She's the one who invited me to this charity ball_ , Ren realised.

Possible answers to why Ellison invited him, were all discomforting to the least – with "DOES THIS THOT KNOW YOU'RE A PHANTOM THIEF?!" being right there at the top.

Ren eyed the elevator from the corner of his eye. Crap. He was so close to leaving the place too.

Ellison proffered her arm.

"Shall we go?"

* * *

 **I intended for this chapter to be longer initially. However, once Hifumi's bit got added in, the pacing got a bit complex and my instincts told me the reader's headspace would get unfavourably cluttered, keeping tracking of Comedienne+Skull, Ren, Ann+Morgana+Yusuke and Hifumi+Goro. :L**

 **Cake Delivery asked when is Shiori's birthday. She's a Leo. Her birthday is August 11th.**


	28. Involution

.

 **Quim (n.) a Victorian-era articulate that referred to the fluids produced by the vagina. While there is a modern British-variant meaning for the term, that import will not be used by** _ **Cyber-Violet Volition**_ **.**

 **Tsukubai (n.) traditionally a stone water basin** **used to cleanse the hands and rinse the mouth before entering a shrine or temple, and before beginning the tea ceremony. May come with a bamboo dipper (hishaku) The water supply is rigged to seesaw piece of bamboo that fills with water, tilts, empties itself, and then tilts again with a clap on a rock. This mechanism is called shishi-odoshi. The hollow sound is very pleasing to Japanese garden enthusiasts.**

* * *

The pedestrian light changed to green – Walk. A wheelchair rolled onto the marked pedestrian crossing, the faint humming of a motor propelling it forward. A girl in an Irish green hoodie hurried past the wheelchair user. Although half her face was veiled from 'shogi fans' who might randomly chance on her, the red clover rope stuck out the hemline of the hood.

Goro's place was a small apartment complex in a quiet suburb, stylised in a fusion of the Bakamatsu period, woody sake bottle shops with katakana banners hanging vertical and a Shinto shrine. Matching with 90s Japan, classic cafes, retro electronics store; PlayStation 1s lined the shop-glass displays with violet neons glowing above the grey consoles. Hifumi half-expected a Shinsengumi samurai to step out of the corner, holding a paper umbrella with LED bars in place of its bamboo frame.

The security guard buzzed Hifumi in, without her pressing the ringer. He knew the girl in the green hoodie was always going to be Goro's expected visitor. Further in, the apartment building revealed itself to be U-shaped with greenery and calla lilies for gardens. At the centre was a stone statue of an angel, facing down.

While Hifumi waited for the elevator, she checked her phone – a habitual reflex Hifumi did everywhere when she was out, in the trains, waiting at a store queue. . .even if there were no messages or calls to be sent. The Contacts app opened. The elevator doors slid open. Hifumi stepped in.

At the top of the list was a sorted category of newly added contacts, from the rest of the other names. 'Ren Amamiya'. . .the boy with Satanael. The walls of the elevator were glass, so when Hifumi looked down, it was like the angel was falling as she went up to Goro's floor.

Hifumi remembered the way Ren caught her at the museum. In hindsight, Hifumi realised her erratic behaviour had forced Ren to hold her too familiarly for two people who just met. It was not her fault, her Persona overwhelmed her. . .

 _He smelt nice_ , thought Hifumi.

The elevator arrived.

Goro did not say anything when he opened the door. Hifumi saw over his shoulder - the TV was on, playing Mariya Takeuchi's _Plastic Love_. Hifumi looked back in his eyes and knew what they both wanted. The emotional and physical relief they needed from the stress nodes of their own lives. Hifumi held out her arms to Goro. He pulled her in.

* * *

 _Ico Tower_.

The elevator they took was not the one of the four main ones Ico Tower used, but an exclusive express lift which Ellison commanded with her voice. First, having the power to receive Ren's delivery and now these VIP privileges? Who was this woman? Ren wondered.

"You will find that there are no surveillance cameras on these higher floors. Matters of discretion are conducted here by important people," Ellison mentioned to him.

The floor they arrived had curling corridors in an O-shape, with a hydroponic Japanese garden of sorts in the centre. A tsukubai was filling, where the bamboo conduit would tap on the stone basin when brimmed. Paper lanterns floated on the tiny streams, shading orange hues on Ren's black tux. Ahead of him, the susurration of Ellison's dress moving against her skin, added a complementary sound to the Zen mood. Ren's attention fell to the swell of her ass, rumps buoyant on the high-heeled steps. The sheathing pink dress gave Ren a mildly accurate definition of what Ellison probably looked naked, while leaving the right things to the imagination. Was she even wearing underwear? Ren wondered. In the elevator, Ren saw her nipples pebbling against the fabric. No bra.

 _She's walking ahead of me on purpose_ , Ren mused.

Which meant Ellison was buttering him up for something.

Just take the keys and go, Ren told himself.

The deeper corridors were seemingly quiet and empty. Until Ren heard a vague popping sound ( _Champagne uncorking?_ Thought Ren) followed by boisterous laughter, through one of the doors they passed.

As if reading his mind, Ellison told him, "They're the only other group here. Have you heard of the Sugimuras? They are one of the privileged among the privileged. You could say, the higher you can go in this tower, the more important you are."

"Who takes the highest floor?"

"That. . .I'm not at the liberty to divulge. Security reasons. You would understand, wouldn't you?"

That answer inspired arrière pensée in Ren.

Ellison's 'office' was not completely conventional. There were the usual furnishes, a sophisticated desk with a workstation. Cabinets embedded on walls. Where there were no cabinets, glass panels lined the outliers, providing a sweeping panorama of Ginza's skyline albeit, the sharp edges of the tall buildings were diffused by condensation on the glass.

What made Ellison's office unusual was the presence of a bed at the other end; quilting velvets of black and pillow - which looked like a typhoon visited. Ren noticed the blue foil glint of a condom wrapper, tucked by one of the bed legs. Ann would throw him off this skyscraper, if she knew the situation he was in.

From the corner Ren spied a washroom entrance, which seemed about half the size of his own bedroom.

"Don't mind the bed. For now. This office has served as a pied-à-terre for me when I work late," said Ellison.

"Cool."

"Please. Take a seat. I'm sure I left the keys here around here somewhere. . ." Ellison shuffled through loose papers, letters, and paperclips. There was something superficial about Ellison's motion. Her décolletage was too conveniently positioned at Ren, giving him a good view of Ellison's cleavage.

"Would you. . .ah. . .but you're a minor, aren't you? No matter. I'm sure you're good at keeping secrets. . .aren't you, Ren?" said Ellison, gesturing to the liquor cabinet behind her - half a cabinet, half a cooler.

"If I am to drive that car, I shouldn't be drinking, Ellison," said Ren.

"Of course."

Ellison fixed herself a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks. For Ren, she poured him a bubbling glass of mineral water. Ellison sat herself on the swivel chair across the desk, tumbler in one hand. Ren could vaguely make out the lipstick imprint on that glass. For half a minute, they sat impassive. Silent and guessing. Ren was the one who broke the silence.

"You didn't bring me up here for the keys, did you?" he asked.

"I didn't."

". . ."

"How was your seventeenth birthday?" asked Ellison, taking the reins of the subject.

"Uneventful."

"Oh? Didn't your friends. . .or that man, Sakura – throw you a celebration?" asked Ellison.

"Most days pass with little sentimentality for me. That includes my birthday. Sojiro doesn't know when my birthday is. I never told him," said Ren.

"And you never told your friends too," said Ellison.

Ren nodded.

"You're a very secretive man, aren't you?"

". . .You always research secretive people, before inviting them for these parties?" asked Ren.

Ellison laughed. She took a sip of her whiskey, those spiky eyelashes lowering. Ren had a feeling this woman had drunk a fair bit during the party too.

"It is a habit of mine," admitted Ellison.

". . ."

"But. . .this is the first time I've done it for personal reasons. That makes you special, Ren," said Ellison.

A stirring lesson echoed in Ren. His mother's words, when she gave her share of advice on women – in-between her rare moments of sobriety.

" _Men crave being the special one to a beautiful lady. They stand taller around her. Become ready to do irrational things for them. Some women know this and try to exploit them for their gain. I'll not stand for you being the classical fool in this regard. This Kyoko girl. . .she seems nice. But never drop your guard around your girlfriend and femme fatales," said Rie Amamiya._

Ren thought about the way Ellison approached him, until now. Ellison needed a favour from him? But what. . .? Ren was acutely aware of the bed in his peripheral vision. Was he a conquest for her tonight? No. That could not be. There were plenty of other supple men at tonight's ball (not that Ren was disqualified from that criterion). It had to be something exclusive to him. Something that only Ren could do, among the many guests. Something only someone like him could do. . .?

Arsene shifted in his psyche. Ren swallowed.

"You know where I live. My birthday. Which school I attend. What else do you know?" asked Ren.

Behind Ellison's seat, the night city skyline was a tapestry of dark glassy shards rising – at their tip top points, blinking strobes of red and green dots in the night sky. Ren envisaged each of those strobe blinks were neuron signals firing from Ellison's mind, as if she was an all-knowing consciousness that encompassed all of Tokyo, spying on every person that lived in it.

"Small and big details. The police profile check. . .yes-" affirmed Ellison, when Ren straightened up, "-I know all about your arrest and probation."

"Does it bother you?" asked Ren.

"Should it?"

". . ."

"I know your average test scores and theoretical IQ. You're a clinically bored underachiever, Ren Amamiya. I've reviewed your medical history. At the age of twelve, you found out you had a gun powder allergy, after playing with fireworks," said Ellison.

Ren nodded.

"I even know. . ." Ellison paused. Should she say it? Ellison wondered.

"You know. . .?"

"Who your friends are at Shujin. Interesting lot, I should add. This part was harder because of the _extraordinary_ firewalls you've installed on your phone and PC. My IT team could not retrieve messages. . .call logs and believe me, that's a big deal. They're supposed to be good at cracking these kinds of things. Didn't expect you to be the computer geek type," said Ellison.

 _Firewalls? What is she talking about? I don't know how to implement such things_ , thought Ren.

Resisting the urge to look at his smartphone, Ren shrugged uncaringly.

"I learned a lot from the techies at my parent's company," lied Ren.

Ren made a mental note to check what Ellison was talking about, once this was all over.

"I see. Well, we used the school's CCTV cameras to deduce this. The blonde girl - is she special to you? My analyst noted you two would always sit next to each other during lunchtime. Among _other things_ ," said Ellison, looking at his mouth.

Was there a surveillance camera in the storeroom? Ren wondered. He did not think so.

"You mean Ann. She's a friend," said Ren, shifting uncomfortably on his seat, hoping Ellison would not ask about the partially healed cut at his corner-lip.

Ellison watched Ren closely.

 _Now that I think about it. . .Ren may not know about 'that'. Nor would the Takamaki girl_ , Ellison thought amused. What _would_ Ren's reaction be like, when he finds out? She wondered. Gosh. Ellison would love to see.

That smile of Ellison's was starting to unnerve Ren.

"I think. . .you should get straight to the point of why I'm here," Ren said slowly.

Ellison opened the drawer and fished out a set of electronic keys. When the insignia of a jaguar silver-glinted in the light, Ren knew they were for his car. Ellison did not hand them over to Ren, right away.

"We'll get there. For now, I want to ask. . .do you like art, Ren? I know youths your age might be more interested in consuming manga or video games. . .but I'm talking about the highbrow stuff. Like paintings and sculptures," said Ellison.

Madarame? . . .! Ren's breath stopped

"I don't mind them," said Ren.

 _Stay calm. She's shown no proof yet_ , thought Ren.

"I personally despise them," spat Ellison.

At the sudden venom, Ren sat back on his seat. The vehemence was like a sine wave contrast to her usual semi-flirtatious and mellow behaviour.

Ellison sipped her whiskey again. A longer drink this time. Ren saw the glass near-empty. The tumbler was tapped a little too loudly on the desk. Ellison smacked her lips.

"Do you think people could ever be art, Ren? Actual living human beings? Defined not necessarily as people of free will, but to serve only as abstract ideas of expression," said Ellison.

 _"Sometimes. . .we find art in people. Their identities. Actions. Their mannerisms and appearances. Juxtaposing qualities which mix and alchemize incredible feelings within us! Feelings so powerful, that we humans, often chase after them if they're gone. Sometimes, we might create mementos of their art, as a way of trying to immortalise them. . ." Madarame had said during the exhibit._

"He said something like that. . ." Ren muttered to himself.

"Hmm?"

"I. . .no. I've never contemplated the concept. But thinking about it now, some people may have thought of such ideas, I guess?" said Ren.

Ellison flashed her eyebrows.

"Ideas. . ." said Ellison.

Ren was unsure of why Ellison's mood was dipping over this odd topic. There was a soft slur in her words now. She was a bit drunk, that much was obvious.

"Some say an idea can be dangerous. . .like creeper vines in the garden of a person's mind. Seemingly harmless at first. So what if a human trafficker and entrepreneur had this idea three decades ago? He would not act upon them, would he? But then slowly. . .these thoughts sprawl, vines in the undercurrent of the garden's cobblestone path. . .breaking it up. Exposing darker desires beneath. Uprooting all doubts that selling humans as art is a crazy ambition, until one day. . .the first commission is made by a prince of Saudi Arabia in 1993," said Ellison.

". . ."

Ellison flipped open a manila folder. Ren saw glossy A4 photographs. Ellison slid one of them to Ren, who took it in his hands.

There was a corner edge burn on the photo, like in those old movies which had random dots show up in the picture. This must be a copy of an old photo.

Ren was not sure what he was looking at first. A naked figure, a woman's, was poised against a tree trunk. He entire body was painted black, save for stylised golden stripes – three of them, curving angularly across her mons, tummy and breasts. Crafty calico. An immediate sense of high fidelity artistry radiated from this woman's painted skin - comparable to an oil painting which might be found in a museum.

Ren's finger brushed to her face. That was not the look of a normal person. It was animalistic. Feral. Mad. Fernery and other foliage dipped and rose around her. . .

"These plants in the photo, are they fake?" asked Ren.

"They are. Good eye," said Ellison.

 _Is this some weird cosplay?_ Thought Ren.

"When the commission went out, a young miss was kidnapped from her Venezuela home. She was nineteen. The authorities treated it as a human trafficking case. Half-right, they were. Human trafficking was a huge vice back then, it's still big today. ILO estimates the industry generates one-hundred and fifty billion dollars in profits. That's profit mind-you, not counting operational costs or the total asset worth. . .because. . .hehe. Official reports cannot afford to make the politically incorrect measure in valuing how much the already contracted 'human stock' is worth," said Ellison.

"This is the victim?" asked Ren.

"Yes. After being 'prepared', she was sold to the prince for a total of five million American dollars. As you can imagine, that was an unusually high price for a single stock in the slave-trade. Five million back in 93' would be about. . .hmm. . .eight and a half million dollars today, adjusting for inflation. Her family never found out what happened to her."

"That's awful," whispered Ren.

"You find it awful. This entrepreneur who came up with the idea of literal human artworks overtaking other forbidden products the rich pay for. . .like elephant tusks, stolen paintings, rare and exotic fur. . .he saw a goldmine. He saw a revolution, an intercession where the art world meets human trafficking. Special arrangements had to be made of course. Brainwashing the subject into believing they are nothing but the embodiment of the art. Hiring formally trained artists to paint over them. Medications to inhibit the bodily needs. Sometimes even surgery. Yet the final transaction profit made it all worth it. The extra bonus were maintenance needs, which would be charged for years. . .until the artwork 'broke down', only for it to be replaced with another mannequin who carries the legacy of the artwork's concept," said Ellison.

Another photograph was slid to Ren. A man hung from a cross. Imitations of blood dribbled from his wrists. The Crucifixion of Christ, but not as a painting.

"That's from a steel magnate's mansion in Germany. A religious man, I am told."

A third photo was pushed to Ren. His throat caught up, feeling the urge to throw up.

"Hong Kong. As you can see, children have not been exempted. Even for pornographic framings."

The fourth photo. A teenage girl with a rose pinned at her groin. An empty blank stare.

"Estonia. The theme there is the 'purity of virginity'. The owner was an heiress who was raped as a child by her father. We can only imagine why she might have commissioned this. Two years after she bought this 'artwork', she killed that girl then committed suicide."

More photos came into Ren's blank-eyed stare, while Ellison indifferently droned on about the horrors and abstracts. A small stack formed on Ren's laps until he threw the photos back onto Ellison's desk and barked:

"That's enough! Please!"

Sweat dripped down from Ren's forehead. Some of the things Ren saw. . .

 _Holy fucking shit!_

"You're disturbed," observed Ellison.

"Who wouldn't be after seeing this fucked up trade?!"

Ellison leaned forward, reaching out to Ren's hand.

"This underground trade is happening in Japan too, Ren," she said softly.

"What?!"

Images of catgirls and other otaku hoo-haa filled Ren's mind. It was like an anime cosplay convention multiplied by the morbidities of human trafficking, psychological programming and fucking art.

"One more photo, OK? This one is just a headshot portrait," said Ellison.

Ellison did not let go of Ren's hand as she slid out a picture of a Japanese schoolgirl. Ren recognised the distinctive upper-shape of the school badge. A Kosei High School student.

"Who is she?" asked Ren.

"Airi Sonohara. She was reported missing weeks ago, after failing to return home from school. The police have barely scratched the surface for where she might be, or what might have happened to her," said Ellison.

The two electronic keys to Ren's Jaguar was pressed into his hand.

"I won't force your being here any longer, Ren. But if you could stay and hear me out on the rest of this, I would be grateful. This favour I wish to ask of you, requires your willing discretion and clandestinity," said Ellison.

Ren was almost speechless. This was so not how he envisioned his day turning out. Ren woke up this morning, not expecting he would kiss Ann, not expecting his father to call him, not expecting to delay with plans on infiltrating Madarame's Palace. . .

Ren picked up the photo of Airi.

Not expecting this!

"I cannot make any promises, Ellison. Let's hear it," said Ren.

Ellison nodded, her eyes softening.

"My sources tell me that Airi may have been pulled into this world of. . .shall we call it 'Live Mannequins'? That makes her the most recent known victim in Japan. Before her was a bartender, Kishimoto Hayate. His corpse was found inebriated with toxicants. The theory is, the suppression drugs these Live Mannequins use, they went wrong with Hayate. An unforeseen allergy reaction, quite possibly," said Ellison.

"You want me to find Airi?"

Ellison shook her head.

"No. Not exactly. If the police could not do it, I would not expect you to succeed in their place," said Ellison.

"Then what?"

"There was a tip-off. It's 50:50, but it could happen. It is possible the next LM target will be someone from Shujin Academy," said Ellison.

 _From Kosei to Shujin. Why? More importantly. . ._ thought Ren.

"Who are they planning to take?" asked Ren.

"I don't know. That – is what I want you to find out. I need you to be my eyes and ears there. Be on the prowl. Listen to any whispers or any strange things you may come to notice. If we can find one of these agents of the LM industry, it may help lead us to Japan's epicentre control of this vice," said Ellison.

 _Does this mean she has no idea I'm a Phantom Thief?_ Thought Ren.

Still. A few things did not add up. While Ren had worked out by now that Ellison was someone very important in Japan's administrative hierarchy – or at least, someone who could have access to hidden felony intelligence and police files (which were supposed to be confidential, away from the public eye); it did not explain why she was asking an assistant café barista/high schooler for this, instead of Japan's military intelligence or some other highly qualified person. Unless. . .Ren's eyes widened.

"You suspect the system is rigged. Like a politician. . .judge. . .or someone in the police force, who is in bed with these LM traffickers. Someone. . .or some people who are powerful enough to undermine any official movement against this," said Ren.

Ellison smiled, pleased. She was right to choose him. The psychological profiling was right about Ren Amamiya's intellect to think like an intelligent criminal, yet not letting go of the morals which got him falsely arrested.

"That is correct," said Ellison.

"But. . ." Ren began slowly, frowning, ". . .you're also not doing this because it's the right thing. I'm not even sure if you're doing this because you want to bring the LM syndicate down," said Ellison.

Ellison's smile diminished a little. Maybe a little too clever.

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you spoke about the other human trafficking victims. Your choices of words were cynical. There was no emotional distress. . .no anger. You're after something else in all this. Why do you want to find the nest of Japan's LM industry?" asked Ren.

Ellison folded her arms, realising she underestimated Ren. Goro Akechi never tried to read between the lines of the orders she relayed from Shido. Never questioned her motives. This one was different.

"Well?" asked Ren.

Ellison hesitated. She needed this mole at Shujin. Ren needed to be placated with an answer. A lot of what drove Ellison, her being here in Japan, her position in Shido's personnel, it all anchored around something that happened in Japan's LM industry.

Ellison pursed her lips. As long as Ren did not find out who her boss was. . .

"There is someone I'm looking for," Ellison said softly.

It was the truth.

"Family?"

"I'm not saying more than that, Ren," Ellison said firmly.

". . ."

"Will you help me?" asked Ellison.

Moment of truth. Ren looked down at the strewn photos. Not all the concepts of these Live Mannequins were explicitly horrifying. Those that were otherwise. . .

Ren pushed the grotesque images out of his mind. Even then, this was still a form of slavery, forcing a person to be an object. A literal kind of objectification. What if one of his friends were the target? Ryuji, Shiori. . .or Ann. Ren squeezed his fist. Damnit all. Just when he thought everything was safe at Shujin with Kamoshida gone, this new threat shows up.

"Do you know when they're making the move? To kidnap a Shujin student?" asked Ren.

"I wish I did. It could happen next week. It could happen six months from now. These people are careful. Patient. There are many reasons for why they've escaped public awareness all this time," said Ellison.

Ellison was giving him very little to work with. There were hundreds of students at Shujin Academy. The other Phantom Thieves would need to be in the know, for maximum coverage.

Mishima too? Wondered Ren. He was running the Phan-Site and had an anonymous information network in the student body. Assuming Ren got over his resentment for what Mishima did, that would still require a huge level of trust.

Ellison walked over from her seat and propped herself at the front of her desk, vis-à-vis at Ren. Ellison flipped her hair, those sultry eyes weighing on him. She said:

"If it's incentivisation you need. . ."

Ellison spread her legs. Transparent embroidery of red thongs, dipping in. From the centre of the netty material was a darkling patch growing. Already there was sheen of quim on Ellison's right thigh, which told Ren she had been wet for a while now.

". . .we can continue the negotiation in other. . .tongues - on the bed," suggested Ellison.

Ren looked more handsome when he was scowling. Those shadows moving under his cheekbones; eyebrows slashing down, shadowing his eyes. Did he have a variant of that when pistoning into a woman? Ellison marvelled.

"That will not be necessary."

* * *

 _Roppongi_.

"Yusuke!" Madarame called out.

That impudent weasel, thought Madarame. Where was he? Was that Morishima girl bedding him again? Maybe it was time he shoved some sense into this naïve boy- he should be doing more painting and less fooling around with that psychopath.

Madarame had tolerated for a couple of years now; Yusuke's bishōnen looks attracting girls into the shack. Sometimes it would be an artistic session. Other times, a casual affair. Kofuki proved to be a special case when it came to Madarame's attention that Yusuke's withdrawal from his previous artist's block was thanks to her lustmaking and drugs. Along with those extracurricular assignments Madarame gave her. . .

Madarame turned into another corridor and froze. What in the world. . .Why was that door open?! Madarame's wrinkly face contorted into more lines, anger defining the sharp edges.

"Yusuke! What are you doing?!"

#

It was dark at first. Ann fumbled around the wall, looking for the switch. Or maybe she could make out with Ren in the dark? Ann considered.

For Yusuke, the sudden darkness made him momentarily pause about what they were doing. They were in the one room sensei had forbade him from entering. Not good. Not good. Also, where was that mirage of Sayuri he saw earlier? Or was it Ann? Yusuke was so confused in his psychedelic state of mind.

Ann found the light switch.

"Ren?" Ann called out half-nervous, half-excited.

"Ren? You mean that boy you were with. . .? But never mind that, Takamaki-san! This is bad. . .! We should not be here," Yusuke whispered in mortification.

Ann frowned. Why was Ren talking that way?

Right as Ann flipped the switch, Carmen snapped her fingers, breaking the dreamy spell concocted from Ann's desires and thoughts. The room blinked, flickering cinematic frames of paintings stacked against each other. Then light properly filled the room.

"Huh!" exclaimed Ann, seizing up at the cognition of Yusuke.

 _What. . .just happened?_ Thought Ann, cupping her forehead.

By her feet, Morgana pawed at Ann's knee and nodded to the standing vertical stacks of canvasses. Ann's eyes widened. What was this. . .

Madarame strode into the room, his eyes ablaze with fury and fear.

"Yusuke! What are you doing?! Why is there an animal in my house?!" demanded Madarame.

Yusuke immediately went pale. Well. . .paler than usual anyway. Ann noticed Yusuke's knees tremble before his master.

"S-s-sensei this is not what you think. . ." Yusuke began to stammer.

Before Madarame could get another angry word in, Ann said:

"Isn't this 'Sayuri'? Why are there so many of them?"

 _Sayuri?_ Thought Yusuke.

Yusuke turned around to see what Ann was talking about. His throat seized up. Near invisible fracture lines spidered in his vision. All these paintings. . .

Yusuke's headache hammered again.

"Ack!" Yusuke clutched his head.

"Kitagawa-kun!"

"I'm fine, Ann. . ."

"Both of you, get out now!" barked Madarame, a nervous falsetto trickling into his voice.

Yusuke reached out to the edge of a painting, grasping the solid feel of the corner edge. These were real. He was not hallucinating.

"Sensei. . .what is the meaning of this?" asked Yusuke.

Madarame hesitated. Torn between the roads of authoritative aggression and his image of a kind old man. Madarame licked his lips. Maybe he could try the latter first.

Madarame sighed theatrically, his shoulders slumping.

"I. . .I suppose there's no point trying to hide this anymore," said Madarame.

"Sensei?"

"Truth be told, I am in severe debt. I handmade these 'Sayuri' copies and have been selling them through a special connection of mine. . ." said Madarame.

The cracking lines retrograded further inwards in Yusuke's vision, inching towards his sensei.

"But why. . .? Couldn't you use the real 'Sayuri' to. . ." said Yusuke.

Ann noticed Madarame blinking a bit too fast.

"The real 'Sayuri'. . .was stolen by one of my pupils long ago. I assume they begrudged my strictness. . .That incident served as a great emotional shock to me. So much, that I fell into a depression of artist's block. . .as you have seen, Yusuke – you and other artists have been handing over your ideas to me to help me during this difficult time," said Madarame.

 _Then that painting with the fox and red aura. . .'Forestry Carmine' – that's what it was called. That was painted by Kitagawa. I sensed the artist's frustration and anger from it_ , thought Ann.

Ann eyed these 'Sayuri' copies closer. She frowned. This whole thing was so off. . .

"I knew I couldn't keep that up, so I attempted to re-create 'Sayuri' a number of times. However, it resulted in nothing more than replicas. That's when someone came to buy the paintings, knowing well they weren't original. . .It's all my fault. I couldn't pay the price of being a famous artiste. As expectations and tours costs rose, it reached a point where I had no choice but to keep making them. . ." said Madarame.

 _I can twist the knife into that guilt Yusuke feels - for depending on me for all his life_ , thought Madarame.

". . .I. . ." Madarame falsely hesitated, ". . .I also needed the money to further your talents, Yusuke. To give you all the tools you needed. . .I ask that you please forgive your cowardly teacher," Madarame said, sounding so frail.

Yusuke was distressed seeing his sensei like this.

"Please. . .don't. . ." said Yusuke.

Madarame smiled when Yusuke took his trembling hands (also fake). This was such a beautiful moment between pupil and master-

Ann's brash voice rudely interrupted.

"Hang on a second. . .Something doesn't add up. If the original painting was stolen, how were you able to make copies of it?" asked Ann.

Madarame swallowed. He tried his best not to look at the covered easel and canvas behind Ann. Beneath the purple silk cover was where. . .

"I. . .happened to find a finely detailed photograph of it in an artbook," said Madarame.

Ann flashed an eyebrow.

"And from that, you managed to sell copies based off the original's photo? I'm not sure of _all_ the ins and outs of the art world, but don't people who buying paintings have an expert eye for the fine arts? Knowing signature brushstroke patterns and other such things. Not something you could easily replicate from a mere photo. This is also something that happens in the fashion world. When knock-offs from China try to mimic high end fashion labels from photos only, but the little things like the stitching process and cheap seam lines betray their lack of authenticity," said Ann.

"Well. . .umm. . ." began Madarame.

Ann folded her arms.

"You're lying," said Ann.

It was not a question. It was a statement.

Madarame gritted his teeth. Who does she think she is?!

"What would you know?! You're just an airheaded blonde who thinks paintings are about sweets! Tell her, Yusuke! Tell her how she hardly understood 'Forestry Carmine'!" said Madarame.

"Takamaki-san. . .maybe you're looking at this with too many involutions of logic - when comparing it to the fashion world," said Yusuke.

Ann glared at Yusuke.

"It isn't like that Kitagawa-kun. Something just doesn't feel right!" huffed Ann.

 _Quick. I must discredit her as much as possible in Yusuke's eyes_ , thought Madarame.

"You _feel_? Is that what your defamation is based on? Feelings and not _facts_?" mocked Madarame.

Yusuke's headache was starting to intensify now. If it got any worse, he was sure to collapse. It was taking all his willpower to hold composure in this dramatic situation. The mirage lines of glass cracking were not easing up either. Maybe he should not have overdone it with the drugs.

Yusuke noticed the cat meowing at Ann. He almost forgot about that creature.

"Lady Ann! This one-" Morgana pawed at the covered canvass, the purple cover swaying, "-seems different from the other paintings," said Morgana.

Ann flourished the cover off the painting like a matador.

The cracks deepened.

"Sayuri. . ." breathed Yusuke.

Yusuke got closer to the painting, noting the texturing process of the woman's red dress. The subtle shadings in the palette.

". . .This. . .this is the real 'Sayuri'," said Yusuke.

Yusuke spun back at Madarame.

"But you just said a moment ago that the real one was stolen!" exclaimed Yusuke.

"That factual enough for you, Madarame?" Ann said coolly.

"That's a replica!"

"No! It's nothing of the sorts! I've studied. . .not just studied, I've obsessed with art for many years. All because of 'Sayuri'. This painting kept me going. . .It's my raison d'être!" said Yusuke.

Yusuke exchanged glances with Ann.

"Sensei. . .don't tell me. . ."

Madarame's face had transformed into something of grotesque contortion and sweat.

"It's fake. . .Yes, a – a counterfeit! I heard there was a counterfeit spreading around, so I bought it!" said Madarame.

"Right. So first a pupil steals the real 'Sayuri'. Then you start selling counterfeit copies of your own because you were so broke. _Then_ you bought a counterfeit because you don't want a fake circulating? Since you're the artist of 'Sayuri', why couldn't you just report this specific counterfeit to. . .I don't know, law enforcement? On the grounds of scamming and extorting collectors," said Ann.

Yusuke's vision reddened. Everything shattered. In his mind, assumptions and ideas Yusuke had clung onto for years were torn down and smashed. Yusuke closed his eyes. This should have devastated him. . .yet he felt oddly calm. Those silvery eyes reopened. For the first time in a long time, Madarame was shaded in a different light to him. There was an impermanence to his sensei now. Integrity which could not be taken for granted.

"You're lying, sensei. Please, just tell us the truth. . ." said Yusuke.

". . ."

Madarame looked kinda scary to Ann. His mouth was drawn inwards, as if he was trying to swallow something very sour.

"Sensei?" pleaded Yusuke.

 _Even after catching him at all these lies, Yusuke is still being gentle with Madarame_ , thought Ann.

Madarame pulled out his phone and dialled a hotkey on the app - the security agency downloaded for him. He waved his phone at Ann.

"I've reported you to my private security company. I had it set up to deal with the occasional nosy paparazzi or reporter, but I never thought it would come in this handy," said Madarame.

Ann gasped.

"No. Sensei, no! Please. You're being hasty. We can talk this out-"

"Talk all you want with the police. That includes you too, Yusuke!" snapped Madarame.

"Meowwr! This is where we run, Lady Ann!" said Morgana.

Madarame almost lost his footing when the cat ran out, followed by Ann.

"Tch! There's no point! The police will be here in two minutes, you fools!" said Madarame.

 _No, no, no. . .!_ thought Yusuke. This was all his fault. Ann did not deserve to get in trouble because of him.

"Takamaki-san!"

Yusuke raced after Ann.

At the entrance hallway, Ann rattled the door. There was a second lock on it – the security system must have activated it when Madarame called it in. Ann could hear sirens wailing in the distance. Their window of escape was closing.

"What do we do now, Lady Ann?" asked Morgana.

Ann opened her nav-app. They did not have a choice. Ann quickly typed in the first two keywords for Madarame's Palace, hoping Skull and Comedienne will follow in after her, upon hearing the police sirens.

"Takamaki-san! Wait!"

Yusuke grabbed Ann's wrist, just as she inputted the final keyword. The world coalesced into black and red. In the reality metamorphosis, Ann's last thought was:

 _Please hurry, Joker. We need you. I need you_.

* * *

Ren's footsteps tapped off loudly on the marble floor. Tap and tap. Shoes and bamboos pipes, rapping beneath as thoughts filled and brimmed Ren's mind, one after the other.

 _Tap._

Ren needed to hurry back to the others.

 _Tap_.

This new threat at Shujin.

 _Tap_.

There had to be some local criminal organisation helping with the of kidnapping these Live Mannequins.

 _Tap_.

At least Ellison gave him one last clue about this mess before he left her office (with his shirt still buttoned, to Ren's inward astonishment).

" _They've made an enemy. . .Someone who is somehow 'not in the system'," said Ellison._

" _Not in the system?" prompted Ren._

" _No digital tracks. No identity. He's like a ghost. Mutilated bodies have been turning up among trash. Rumour is, they've fucked with an ex-yakuza. Someone who lost a loved one to LM. This nobody. . ."_

There were two kinds of nobodies in Japan. Criminals and the homeless. Ren knew what it was like to live as the first. Was Ren dealing with his own kind, or also the latter? This killer's M.O of leaving members of LM dead in garbage bins, grimly amused Ren. As far as Ren was concerned, only scum took girls like Airi away from her life, from her family. They belonged there.

 _The killer who cleans up trash_ , thought Ren.

As Ren approached the elevators, he heard a disturbance which made him slow in his footsteps. Through glass walls, Ren saw four figures in a party lounge. One passed out on the floor. Two leering onto one young lady.

* * *

Black panties hung by her ankle as Hifumi laid back, propping her arse on the sofa armrest. Top up, she was still wearing her hoodie. Waist down she was naked. Wet fingers dipped into her cunt as Goro fingerblasted her. Driplets of quim sprayed at his hand slamming into her wet folds. Droplets of quim whirl-splayed on the couch.

Hifumi's breath bore quick and light, as she tried to imagine how her mother would feel about seeing her so-perfect daughter in this situation. Getting off on her petty satisfaction laced with pleasure, Hifumi undulated her hips, rubbing her clit against Goro's thumb. The deuce-stimulation made Hifumi lose her mind for a few seconds.

When she resurfaced, a naked Goro was straddling himself above her. His brown shaggy hair dipped down to her, almost covering his eyes completely. At her pussy, Goro's cockhead gyrated at her entrance. It never failed to arouse Hifumi that Goro's dick was unabashedly red and angry looking, just like his angst. Whenever Goro penetrated, he tore into her like he was trying to release his hurt. That meant, hard fucking.

Goro liked that Hifumi was a "breather". She rarely moaned, unless there was a punctuation in their fucking (finger into her arse, biting her nipple, smacking. . .). It annoyed him when Ellison or his earlier girlfriends would screech or squeal - like someone stuffed a pig inside their voice box. Didn't help that some of the idiots he murdered made similar noises.

That aside, Goro was intrigued to find his girlfriend was really dialled up today. Tense and needy. Did she have another fight with her mother? He wondered.

"You OK?" he asked Hifumi gently.

Hifumi's wanton breathing paused. This gentlemanly shell of Goro. . .she did not want that tonight. She wanted the real him. The absolute, selfish bastard she loved. The man that did not know limits.

"Hifumi?"

Hifumi slapped Goro. Her nails caught above his eyebrow, leaving three red marks on his forehead.

Hifumi's slapdash snapped Goro's head to the right, into an expression of catatonic fade-out like, 'Did she just do that?'. Hifumi's chest heaved. Goro slowly turned his gaze down to his aggressive girlfriend.

"Mhmm. . ." Hifumi hummed, pleased by her sadism.

Inside of Goro, taut wires were snapping one by one, releasing the endless undercurrent of rage he harboured for years.

Goro backhanded Hifumi. The jolt zinged all the way to her cunt.

"Aahhh!. . .haa. . ." she moaned.

Goro gripped her neck with both hands, applying pressure to the sides – not at the front. The vulnerability and dirtiness of it all made Hifumi more wet in her pussy. Hifumi spread her legs as far as she could, as Goro slicked into her. She took a deep breath in and squeezed. Goro groaned, his hips meeting resistance when he tried to pull back.

"Yes daddy. . ." breathed Hifumi.

Paternal keywords. They both knew was one of Goro's triggers when his emotional barriers were lowered like this. Playing with fire was one thing. Throwing dynamite into the same fire was Hifumi's thing.

"You fucking slut. . ." growled Goro, as Hifumi's nails raked lines on Goro's bum cheeks. Her other hand tugged at Goro's hair, lifting his chin up.

Goro's grip tightened on her neck, fogging Hifumi into a haze of asphyxiate pleasure. Yanking. Fucking. Choking.

 _Proud. . .of your. . .shogi princess now, mum?_ Hifumi thought.

* * *

Haru knelt forward, slapping Sugimura's passed out form on the floor. Lucky for him, most of the guests were gone, so they missed his unbecoming.

Not that this was the first time her fiancé would drink more than he could take before giving out. Last time he almost drowned, falling into the pond at his family estate. Haru remembered the flustered butlers diving in after their master while she discreetly clapped, silently cheering the koi fishes to drag Sugimura down.

"Ehhh!?" someone shouted in her ear.

Haru jumped, startled.

"Suzuki-san," said Haru.

Suzuki was one of Sugimura's cousins. Next to him was Toyoda. His second cousin. Probably where relations started with apes, Haru thought.

Haru secretly disliked them. They were loud, obnoxious and once in one of the wilder parties hosted by Sugimura, Haru had seen the two of them pressuring a flustered college-age girl (who worked at their uncle's company) into sex – promising she'd get a promotion. They did not even ask her name, by the time they were done with her and gone.

"Ehhhh!?" Suzuki went off again, in that annoying drunken blaring.

Toyoda blinked dumbly at his passed-out cousin.

"What happened to Fûtarô?" asked Toyoda.

"He's in an ethylic coma," said Haru.

They both gave her blank looks. Haru inwardly rolled her eyes.

"He drank too much whiskey and now he's blacked out," Haru explained slowly.

"OHHH!"

"How are you going to take him home?" asked Toyoda.

Haru frowned.

"I'm not. If he wants to act like an idiot, let him. I'll be finding my own way back," said Haru.

"Ehhhh!"

Haru winced.

"Could you stop yelling like that, Suzuki-san? I find it vexing," said Haru.

Suzuki slammed a palm into the wall behind her. Haru tried not to flinch.

"Suzuki! That's a bit too much!" said Haru.

"Watch your tongue. That's no way to talk to your brother-in-law," growled Suzuki.

"You shouldn't talk like that about Fûtarô," said Toyoda.

Haru did not like that nasty glimmer in Suzuki's eyes. Suzuki leaned on the arm against the wall, tilting his head sideways at Haru.

"Seems like Fûtarô has not yet tamed his bitch. Maybe we oughta-" Suzuki began to loosen his tie. Haru went pale, "-do our cousin a favour, aye Toyoda?" said Suzuki.

A bulge swelled in Toyoda's pants in immediacy, as if Suzuki just pulled a cord to inflate his cousin's boner.

Toyoda nodded.

"Don't you dare! When my father hears of this-"

"That old bag? Peh! He's more interested in greasin' his burgers than some useless squeak like you. C'mon Haru. . ." Suzuki trailed a slithery finger on her jawline. Haru smacked his hand away.

". . .we don't need to tell Fûtarô. Do we, Toyoda?" asked Suzuki, glancing back.

Toyoda nodded, licking his lips. That creeped Haru out so much.

A breeze blasted into the room, the chilly air from the corridors entering. Haru saw a young man with glasses step into the room. He closed the door behind him. The glint reflections on his lens hid those eyes, as he looked down at Sugimura. To Haru. Then to Suzuki and Toyoda.

"Whaddaya want?!" asked Suzuki.

Haru frowned. The more she looked at this newcomer, the more he seemed kind of familiar to her. Where has she seen him before?

"I heard a commotion," said Ren.

"There's nobody ere' named Camolotion," said Toyoda.

"That means a noisy disturbance, you idiot," said Haru.

"Quiet woman!" shouted Suzuki.

Haru scowled.

"And you!" Suzuki pointed dramatically at Ren.

Ren pushed up his glasses, smiling coldly.

"Yes?" said Ren.

"Fuck off!"

"No."

"Ehhhh!?"

"Is everything alright here. . .Haru?" Ren asked her.

Ren finally recognised his senpai. A handful of times, Ren had seen a dark fawn-haired girl by the front gardens of Shujin, tending to the blossoms of lilies. Shiori said she was the richest student attending Shujin. Kept to herself most of the time, she added.

"We've met?" asked Haru.

Ren shook his head, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Not really. I'm also a Shujin student. Ren Amamiya," said Ren.

"Oh!"

"Oi! Fuck Shujin! You! Asswipe! Stay out of this!" Suzuki spat.

Ren picked up the discomforted expression in Haru's body language. Ha. That was his cue to get into trouble which was none of his business.

Why do I keep getting into these situations? Ren thought, sighing.

"Step away from the lady," said Ren.

Toyoda blinked at Ren. This person was starting to make Toyoda confused. Toyoda did not like being confused. That made him angry.

"Or what?" sneered Suzuki.

"Or. . ." Ren began - sounding bored as he furled his sleeves back, ". . .I'm going to hit you so hard, your ass will be displaced to your face. Which would require a professional asswipe to fix."

* * *

The hoodie arced into the air, unceremoniously flung off a panting Hifumi. Goro surveyed his handiwork. Hifumi was not wearing her bra, leaving her naked now. Her eyes lidded heavily at Goro, tiny viridians peeking in-between sooty eyelashes. Her omamori rope was still secure, its tail snaking under Hifumi's eye like a cow lick. The charm never came off when they had sex. Unsaid rule.

Hifumi shuddered when Goro ran a finger from the tip of her nipple, into traces around her small breasts like a cruising NASCAR on the Titty Speedway. Their eyes met again.

* * *

Ren ducked. A bottle smashed on the wall behind him. Ren frowned at the broken shards on the ground.

"C'mon now. Two against one and you still wanna use weapons?" tutted Ren.

Suzuki snarled, swinging his fist at Ren. It was a drunken punch. Ren almost felt insulted that he barely needed to step back. While Suzuki's swing was still in momentum, Ren pulled Suzuki's arm, off-balancing him into a stumble.

"Shit!" said Suzuki.

Ren grabbed the panicked Suzuki by the shoulders and drove a knee into his sternum. A squawk of air gasped out of Suzuki, his eyes rolling to the back of his eyes. At the same time, Toyoda tackled the two of them, his stocky figure flattening the guys onto the broken glass.

* * *

Hifumi's boobs flattened against the glass. The cool surface of the coffee table kissed Hifumi's nipples, making her body stretch taut as Goro straddled her from behind.

"Oh God. . ." whined Hifumi.

Goro ground his hips against Hifumi's pillow ass, undulating against their white softness and form. Between her cheeks, Goro's dick was in a snug glove that was her pussy. Goro hissed as Hifumi unintentionally clenched his cockhead, stimulated by the contrasting sensations of the cold glass surface, against their exchanging body heat and ecstasy. Hifumi's nipples had always been sensitive. Now icy nips emanated from her twin peaks while her gripping pussy lips lit up in a thousand fires every time Goro gave a short thrust.

In the sweaty blur of her vision, Hifumi saw her phone strewn beneath the glass coffee table. The screen was still on, opened at Ren's contact page from earlier.

 _That guy. . ._ thought Hifumi.

A deeper thrust pushed into Hifumi.

* * *

Toyoda's pushdown scored gashes on his cousin. Suzuki was screaming, his lips split open by one of the shards from expensive champagne. Ren had gotten cut himself, somewhere on his crus. Somewhere during the scuffle, Ren's glasses came off.

Toyoda raised sledgehammer fists and pounded down at Ren, trying to concuss him. Ren shielded his head, adjusting his knee. Toyoda was too heavy for him to push off, so. . .

Ren broke a sacred pact between men and jackhammered his knee into Toyoda's balls. Toyoda's eyes widened. The big guy curled into himself, clutching at his groin. To Ren's flabbergast, the grown man began to cry.

Ren limped into standing. Suzuki scrambled to his feet, blood dripping all over his Armani white shirt.

"Were you eating out your boyfriend? I can see his period all over you," Ren remarked.

Suzuki snarled, spittles of saliva flying out.

* * *

Saliva spilled and dribbled down Goro's chin. Throaty groans and purrs vibrated tremolos as they kissed. Hifumi rubbed her back against Goro's chest, a film of sweat slicking in-between their bodies, while his cock leisurely pumped into her.

Goro arabesqued a hand over her left boob - kneading and rubbing her soft mound. Hifumi ached to press her chest forward onto his hand, but Goro tortured her by pinning her down, arms over her shoulders. Goro played his tempo, patiently. Knead. Cock pumps in. Hold. Pinch her nipple while she was full. Release both ways. Repeat.

The pattern made Hifumi jittery and ache in anticipation. Each motion slowly took her higher, edging her closer to orgasm. Goro's hot breath tickled her neck. Each gust started up small tremors from her neck.

Hifumi decided to be a naughty girl. She worked her pussy lips to squeeze just beneath Goro's cockhead when he pulled out. Hifumi felt him twitching in her pussy. Hifumi had pushed Goro closer to his climax sooner than he wanted. She was throwing him a challenge. How did he plan to make her orgasm now?

"You little bitch," he hissed into Hifumi's ear.

"Mmm. . ."

She was a bitch. Her peers in the Women's Shogi League hated her. Mitsuyo mistrusted her. The way Hifumi borderline blackmailed Ren about Satanael.

 _Ren. . ._

Hifumi bit her lips. Ren smelt like coffee and pepper. Hifumi almost had not noticed, with the way her body almost gave in around him. The way his Persona made her feel all hot and bothered. They both had gone to the washroom after that, locking the door. To discuss. What if Ren tried to punish her for the way she treated him. . .

Like this.

Goro began to rub Hifumi's clit with his free hand. Hifumi panted harder.

Like that.

Hifumi closed her eyes. Her hands roamed the thighs of the man beneath her. Hifumi rolled her hips as his dick began to pound faster into her pussy. A fresh sheen of sweat covered her. Hifumi raised her arms like butterfly wings, running her hands through his _curly black hair_.

His cock pushed in as deep as her pussy could take it, before he came. Hot wetness exploded in Hifumi's pussy. Although he was softening, the fucking kept going, tendrils of cum slicking against each other. It felt so intimate with him. . .

One last gentle squeeze on Hifumi's clit and she gave in.

Hifumi arched her back, throwing her head back. She was flying. White spots exploded behind her eyes. Her body bucked and shook uncontrollably as Goro held her down. Waves of ecstasy churned for a full minute. Until. . .Hifumi floated to the awareness of their heavy breathing. The ceiling above her changed dim hues by the TV's illuminary, from green to grey.

"What just happened. . ." Hifumi murmured.

Goro kissed her cheek. His arms enclosed around her, caressing and cuddling. No. Goro did not understand why she said that.

* * *

Ren was the devil.

 _I'm soooo bad_ , thought Ren, smirking.

Ren held a fistful of Suzuki's hair, suspending his bloody head up. Suzuki got fucked up good. New gashes had been added to Suzuki's face. At his head (Ren banged it against the wall), a broken nose (He was actually aiming for the mouth, when Suzuki lowered his face) and a black eye (How did that happen? Thought Ren. He could not remember).

Suzuki swayed, sitting on his knees and barely conscious. He was only vertical because of Ren holding him up by his bleached hair. The pungent smell of hair chemicals and blood flared Ren's nostrils.

"I recommend using asswipes to clean yourself up. Maybe wipe the shit off your attitude too," Ren said to him.

Ren released Suzuki. The guy fell forward with a _thud_.

"Ren! Behind you!"

Ren turned around, his hand dipping into his tuxedo pocket.

Toyoda charged towards Ren. The big guy did not make it all the way. Ren saw a heavyset chair raise behind Toyoda. Haru swung the chair down, smashing it on Toyoda's back.

Sugimura's cousin flattened to the ground, like a fat mosquito swatted down. Ren was impressed by the swinging power this girl had. Haru had a gentle sounding voice yet she hit like a truck.

"Good thing you stopped him," said Ren.

"That's OK. He can't hurt you now," said Haru.

Ren felt the broken glass in his pocket. He picked it up earlier during the fight. If Haru had not stopped Toyoda, Ren would have slashed at the guy's throat. . .

"Thank you, Ren. These two, they were about to. . ." Haru trailed off, looking at the ground.

Ren nodded to Sugimura's sleeping form.

"Who's he?"

"My fiancé."

Ren frowned.

"Does he always. . ." Ren gestured to Suzuki and Toyoda, referring to how they almost forced themselves on Haru while the fiancé was catching whiskey Zs.

Haru wiped a tear from her eye.

"Sugimura's friends and cousins have made passes at me before. I'm not even sure if he cares while awake, to be honest. Tonight was the furthest they ever dared to push it," said Haru.

"Then why marry him? If you don't mind. . .me asking. . ."

". . .We should leave. Before someone finds us. I'll explain in the elevator. . ."

The floor was empty on sight when they exited the party lounge. Ren was reckoned Ellison was probably still in her office – but that was at the far end from where they were. Before entering the elevator, Ren excused himself into the men's restroom to clean up. Haru waited outside.

The water turned red. Ren washed his hands. Most of it was Suzuki's blood. A little of it was from when Ren checked his right leg. The bleeding on his crus had subdued, but still trickled blood. Two cuts today. Both because of women. Wow. If Ren lived the harem life, he'd probably die before twenty.

Now that the adrenaline was dialling down from Ren's altercation, his sense of normalcy was returning.

 _Lucky thing I didn't break my knuckles_ , thought Ren.

Ren's hands had always been soft. While Ren had the physique that would qualify for high school basketball (even college), his fingers were not used to hard impacts like hitting things. The coach from Ren's old school would grumble at him, saying Ren's dribbling technique would be better if he hardened his hands. But Kyoko told Ren to keep them soft.

Ren fished the broken glass from his pocket and dropped it in the wastebasket. Back there, when Toyoda charge at him. . .was Ren really going to murder him?

Ren looked back at his reflection. The custom tuxedo was kinda ruined. His hair was ruffled, tufts sticking out haphazardly. Glasses were back on (by some miracle, they were not damaged after they fell off).

Ren felt déjà vu from his first day in Tokyo. When he was in Shibuya's Big Bang, in the washroom. There was an alternate version of himself, he saw that time. . .

Ren shook his head out of the thought. Even if he had a cruel side, a part of him that was indeed the violent criminal his schoolmates thought he was. . .it was not like most of him was that kind of person. Today was an anomaly. He had to defend Haru and himself.

Ren curled his fingers looking at the half-formed fist. How it felt to hit Suzuki. . .that was not just the adrenaline. The constant backburner anger had transmuted into Schadenfreudian force.

There was a knock at the restroom door.

"Ren? You alright in there?" called out Haru.

"I'm. . .I'm fine. On my way!"

X

In the elevator, Haru had fussed over Ren's leg, saying she should take him to a hospital.

"No. . .no hospital. I got somewhere else to be. . ."

"You sure? I feel like I owe you."

"Pay me back by making it home safe. You got a ride home?" asked Ren.

"Yes. There's a chauffeur waiting in the front. . ."

The number glows steadily continued to drop on the elevator panel screen. Tall building – this Ico Tower, thought Ren.

". . ."

"About Sugimura. . ."

"Forget I asked, Haru. It was rude of me to prod into your personal life there-"

"No. No. It's fine. I believe it's safe to trust you. Kuro likes you too," said Haru.

"Kuro Okazaki?"

"Yes. He's my boyfriend. He mentioned to me Shujin's infamous transfer student. Kuro thinks the rumours about you are awful and wrong. I think he's right," said Haru.

 _Even after seeing me beat Suzuki to a pulp?_ Thought Ren.

And. . .the richest girl at Shujin had both a fiancé _and_ a boyfriend? Thought Ren. Not that Ren personally judged Haru for it, but that was a tabloid scandal waiting to happen.

Haru half-read his mind.

"You must think me to be this awful person. Cheating on Sugimura," said Haru, rubbing her elbow.

 _I could do with a bit of altruism_ , Ren thought dryly.

". . .I can't. I don't know what it's like to walk your shoes, Haru," said Ren.

". . ."

"At the very least-" Ren added, "-it's still hard to sympathise with Sugimura, after what happened back there."

"My marriage with him was decided when I was fourteen. By my father. I found out from a gossip magazine first, before my dad even personally informed of his decision. That Sunday morning when the maid showed me the magazine clipping, I remembered thinking 'I don't even know what my future husband looks like'," said Haru.

"You mean - your dad never even discussed the terms of your marriage with you?"

"He did not. My betrothal was a power move. A political pimping. The Sugimuras are a powerful family in this country. Securing an alliance with them, has immensely help his corporation," said Haru.

"What about your mother? Didn't she try to help?"

"She's not around."

". . .I'm sorry."

"So am I. . ." murmured Haru.

All those times Ren had passed Haru in Shujin's corridors, he had no idea that girl carried a weight on her shoulders. A kind of suffering few knew about.

"If your parents tried to push you into an arranged marriage, what would you do?" Haru asked him.

Ren shrugged.

"Probably run away. Marry some stripper just to piss off me old man," said Ren.

That made Haru laugh. It gladdened Ren to see her smile at last.

"I wish I was that brave," said Haru.

"I guess. . .Sugimura's a terrible guy?" asked Ren.

Haru nodded fast and repeatedly, like a chipmunk.

"Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And three thousand yes's. I _hate_ him. He's misogynistic, rude, a bully - and sleeps with expensive hookers who wouldn't give him the time of their day if he didn't have money," said Haru.

Ren almost wanted to ask if Sugimura ever forced himself on Haru but decided not to go there. Could be a dark spot.

"And Kuro's dick is way bigger than his!"

Ren cracked up.

"It's true. I'm not even making this up, to spite him. . ."

It took a moment for Ren to re-gather his breath.

"Oh. . .no. I. . .I believe you. I bet Kuro's good in bed too," said Ren, before he could stop himself.

"How would you know that?" asked Haru.

The elevator's door opened. Ground floor lobby. This was Haru's exit.

"Oh! Err. . ." Best not mention Shiori's one night stand, ". . .I mean, he's fit and all that, right? Being Shujin's basketball captain," said Ren.

Haru nodded.

"I like his muscles."

". . .You take care now, Haru. I guess I'll see you at school?" said Ren.

Haru surprised Ren by hugging him tight. When she released him, Ren felt a bit embarrassed by the sudden act of affection. Haru wagged a finger at Ren, saying:

"And you don't be a stranger to me. Please?"

"I won't."

Haru waved goodbye at Ren, before the elevator doors closed. Ren selected the underground parking level. The elevator began its decline again.

What Haru said about being forced to be with another man, because of power - it reminded Ren of what Kamoshida tried to do to Ann. How that shitbag of a volleyball coach was denying Ann's autonomy for herself. It took a struggle, but Ann managed to break free from the dictatorship of that guy – free from the school's passive aggression. Ann was allowed to choose for herself.

And she chose Ren.

The elevator doors opened. Ren hobbled into the car park. While the place was spacey, there were not that many vehicles. Which made sense since most of the partygoers' exotic vehicles were parked outside.

Ren had half his mind scanning for his Jaguar.

 _Despite Haru's own guilt, she still wants to be with Kuro. Compared to me, she's a lot braver in the matters of the heart_ , thought Ren.

Pushing Ann away all this time. . .had been the stupidest mistake of his life. At this point. . .

Porno images of Yusuke being all over Ann filled Ren's mind. Ow. Ren's heart begged his brain to stop, it was too much. Brain refused. The imagery only escalated into. . .more positions. . .louder. . .Ren cursed. Of all the days to have a good sense of imagination.

Ren fumbled out one of the key remotes Ellison gave him.

. . . _I guess Ann has already chosen another guy now. She's not going to change her mind, no matter what. But I'm still going confess to her. Ask for her forgiveness. As soon as I see her_ , thought Ren.

Ren clicked the unlock button.

 _Beep._

He turned around. Parked at the far side, next to a black Volkswagen, was a silver Jaguar. Ren tapped the lock button. The supercar's blinker lights flashed.

 _Beep_.

This was his ride. Ren limped towards it.

Ren sat inside the Jaguar. A déjà vu familiarity greeted him, the leather seat feel, the way his hands rested on the steering wheel. Goosebumps ran up his arms. Ren was not even driving it yet, but there was this sense of a contained explosive horsepower just from grasping the wheel. Like a crouching jaguar, ready to spring forward.

On the dashboard was a white envelope titled in cursive: _To Amamiya_.

Ren reached for the envelope while fiddling with the car's key. He realised it was an electronic key. No need to insert into an ignition. Which meant. . .

Ren's eyes fell on a button, 'ENGINE START'.

X

 _Ten minutes later. . ._

The steroidal V8 engine growled when Ren inched the pedal down. Tokyo's city suburban scenery blurred in an eerie glow as the Jaguar accelerated into the night.

In the dark interior, Ren's left lens glinted blue from the console screen display; the GPS directing him to Madarame's address. On the passenger seat was the unfurled letter Ren tossed. The top edge was crumpled, having been gripped too hard.

 _Ren,_

 _I hope you find the supercar amiable to your material needs. This is a Jaguar F-Type Coupé R. British engineering. V8 variant, which is the most powerful line-up of the series (the V6 and V4s would feel like a fizzled out Coca Cola after trying out the V8). Other notable specifications: supercharger engine, 550 horsepower with a top speed of 300 km/hr. Mind you, Japan's traffic regulations are encoded into almost every vehicle's GPS system, where the car's chip would limit you at 180 km/hr on public roads. I took the liberty of having arrangements made so that the limiter is removed. This cat has been unbridled, just for you._

 _On the matter of a driver's licence, your IDP was ordered (from your European and Oceania holiday trips – where I believe your father taught you how to drive) and is left in the Jag's glove compartment. Japanese laws allow 18 and above to drive unsupervised. It also allows International Driving Permits to be valid for up to a year. You will be allowed to use it for at least a week after your 18th birthday (speaking of, your turning of 17 was not too long ago, was it? May 6_ _th_ _)._

 _I know you have reservations about accepting this gift from your parents. As an employee to the company and a friend to your family, I would urge you to reconsider these feelings. Any boy your age would be delighted to take ownership of such a luxury. You might perchance take girlfriends out on a road trip, in your Jaguar (I recommend switching off the heated seats on such dates)._

 _If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call or email me._

 _Signed,_

 _Tashiro Sotomura_

X

The Jaguar slowed, rolling into a suburb of Roppongi.

Ren parked the vehicle a hundred metres away from Madarame's address, near some food stalls. Squid sizzled and smelt pungent as Ren limped in his mattered tuxedo, towards Madarame's shack. He opened the nav-app, typing in Madarame's keywords.

Time to bust out Arsene and a serenade.

* * *

 **That feeling when you divide one chapter into three, and you finally reach the end of the third *collapses**

 **I had a lot of fun with this one. I'm constantly holding back ideas for _Cyber-Violet Volition_ because the slow burn story is not there yet (there are a TON of scenarios and twists y'all are in for in the long run) and some of the stuff I wrote here, I was thinking of all the way back when chapter 9 was posted. It's weird. Like mixing up discovery writing and selected things I have an instinctive knowing of what will happen.**

 **Oh ya...since you're reading this on ffNET, I would recommend checking out the archive of our own version of this chapter in your spare time. There are images there which serve for the Jaguar's aesthetic. It's not a big deal, so take your time here re-reading or reviewing. In a light sense, Ren's supercar will be a silent character in _Cyber-Violet Volition_. **


	29. Evolution

.

 **Lunette (n.) For ordinary days; a word to describe crescent moon shapes. For the French peasants who killed time by beheading nobles, since they didn't have Netflix. . .It is the restraining assembly of the guillotine (where the neck is locked in).**

 **.**

 **Ukiyo-e (n.) a Japanese art form where the artist reproduces subjects on woodblock prints. They may be geisha, flora & fauna, erotica, landscapes and other projections which serve to its meaning (translation) of "picture[s] of the floating world". As this genre was commonplace in pleasure districts of kabuki theatres, courtesans and geisha - by the late 17** **th** **century, the term** _ **ukiyo**_ **("floating world") came to describe hedonistic lifestyles.**

 **It was not just by fanciful decoration, that Atlus placed many of these in the area where the Phantom Thieves were confronted by the true nature of Madarame.**

* * *

Vultures in hell fed on fear.

 _Few understand that hell is a state of mind_ , thought Igor.

There were sober atheists who did not believe in God or heaven, but knew hell was very much real. Oh yes. These humans may not realise the physical world was a comfort material manifestation of their imagination, its complexities scaled down to the tiny macrocosms of _how_ they could understand. Yet the primitive instinct in sensing the demons of their minds was very much there.

Igor watched through the looking glass, his arms folded back behind himself. A passing by London pigeon would have seen a strange aquiline man floating in front of Big Ben, staring at a clockface which had turned transparent beneath its numerals and ticking hands. But of course, the pigeon would have thought nothing strange of it. For it scaled the world in its own way.

On the scrying glass, Ren was shown entering the metaverse. Igor closely observed the man for any signs of progress. Were you standing at hell's precipice, Trickster? Did your demons encircle above, waiting for you to crack?

 _He's not scared_ , noted Igor.

The corner of Igor's lips cracked back into a grin. Good. Very good. This was a telling sign for the Wild Card that he wished to groom. The kind which would prove Ren's fears true, were he to open up to a lover.

 _Does he suspect me more than he lets on?_ thought Igor.

It did not matter. Ren's imagination could not fathom what his rehabilitation truly meant.

"Caroline. Justine. It is time. Unlock his Wild Card."

Unseen girls answered.

"Yes, master."

* * *

 _Madarame's Palace_.

Yusuke reached out, pressing his palm onto the vorticose painting of Madarame's ex-pupil. His hand submerged into the picture, as if dipping into water. Light coalesced into the fringes of Yusuke's vision. Everything went white.

A scene faded in.

 _Paintbrush bristle lines scratched over Yusuke's sight – as if Madarame's atelier was inside a painting. The memory of that afternoon was yellowed out, like sepia memories of old French movies. A man stood at the door, shrouded in outside's near-blinding light._

" _You. . ." said Yusuke._

 _Nakanohara turned back at Yusuke, his eyes puffy from crying. That expression haunted Yusuke for a long time._

" _I'm leaving. Madarame's ruined me."_

" _This is no way to thank our sensei!" Yusuke heard himself say._

" _Thank? You are deluded, Kitagawa-san."_

Yusuke reeled back, gasping. He looked up at the portrait of the peer who left one year ago. Then to the one next to it. Yusuke remembered her. A university student who threw away her accounting studies for Madarame's promise of fame and support, so she could pursue her artistic talents. She lasted barely four months.

All around in this room were portraits of artists Yusuke had seen come and go throughout the years. There was the odd half-dozen he did not recognise, which made Yusuke wonder if Madarame had other ateliers he did not know of.

 _All this talent. . .how did things go so wrong?_ thought Yusuke.

"Hello?!" Yusuke called out.

No one answered. Yusuke had woken up in this room, alone. He did not know what happened to Ann. Where was she?

"Takamaki-san?!"

Silence.

Yusuke did not understand this strange museum. Everything felt unnatural. Just now with that painting, what was that? His headache pounded. Yusuke rubbed his temples, trying to ease his discomfort. Was it because of the psychedelics he took? Maybe he was in an overdose trip, hallucinating on the verge of death.

Yusuke stumbled into another empty atrium. More paintings of more familiar faces here. His gaze travelled to the far end of the room and stopped at one particular picture. Yusuke's own likeness stared back at him.

Yusuke's eyes widened at the painting he had never seen before. These were his own signature brushstrokes reproduced on canvass. Only one person understood his style this intimately. . .

"Sensei. . ." whispered Yusuke.

The depiction was the most foolish looking version of himself in pastel-incarnate.

The patterns in all these paintings finally registered to Yusuke. These were makings of how Madarame saw his disciples. But how?

 _Sensei. . .this is how he perceives me. . ._

#

Skull's mask reflected dully off the glass box.

"Seriously though. It is unbelievable that Madarame is famous for makin' stuff like this," said Skull, leaning forward to a granolithic sculpture of a phallic shape.

Skull's voice carried sound-stagey in the gallery they were in. Despite that, no guards came running - no alarms went off. Skull and Comedienne seemed alone for now, left to their own devices in exploring atriums not closed off by metal shutters.

Comedienne looked up from the museum pamphlet they nabbed earlier from the unattended reception desk. The brochure detailed a layout guide of which areas the visitors were allowed to check out. She was more interested in the parts they were not allowed to visit.

"Looks like a penis," quipped Comedienne.

"Right? Don't you think it's weird how people pay money for a cock rock?" asked Skull.

"Not really."

"Huh?"

Comedienne fell back onto a green lounge – in boredom and sighs. She tilted her chin up, stretching her legs, stilettos digging onto the carpet. Skull's gaze lingered on the slender lining of her neck arch. The tattoo barb wires slashed viciously and stark against her pale skin. Skull came to notice that in the metaverse, Comedienne's tattoos were animated – moving in slight drift. It was an unsettling sight at first but at least her scars from the mental shutdown accident remained hidden.

Comedienne did not notice Ryuji's stare; her eyes closed in the respite. She exhaled.

"Crowd-think. You've seen this already with Kamoshida, at Shujin. Or maybe a movie or book that everyone seems to like. That odd phenomena when the talk more about how much money its made, how many copies it has sold. . .but less about its contents," said Comedienne.

"Oh yeah. . .Kobayakawa would go on about the volleyball team's win tally at the school assemblies, but never make it about the players themselves. . .I kinda get what you're sayin'. Like that piece which made Madarame famous. . .'Sayuri' was it? Folks would totally think I'm an uncultured idiot for sayin' this, but I really don't get the fuss over that painting. I mean. . .it looks okay. . .a woman is looking down at misty fuzz. But that's all I see to it," said Skull.

Comedienne opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

"Exactly. That 'dick' sculpted by Madarame is similar. The media sucks his cock, interview after interview, accolade after accolade. Self-appointed Popes of Popularity telling us what is good, what is not. Because of them, some people mistakenly believe that anything that is good will inevitably get famous, like it's gravity," said Shiori.

". . ."

"There was a perception experiment in 2007. A musician maestro - Joshua Bell, was armed with an expensive violin made in the 1700s. I would tell you it's a Stradivarius violin. Maybe that fancy name or some other gosh-wow superlative might make the instrument a bigger deal to you, Skull? Anyway. . .this very talented guy was a big deal. As in, people paid him _one thousand dollars per-minute_ to play - big deal.

One day, he low-key went to the train metro to play there for about an hour. We see that ourselves, don't we? Street musicians with a money coffer in front of them. A thousand people passed Joshua during his free concert. Only seven people stopped to listen, most of them children. He collected $32.17 for that hour and left with his four million-dollar violin."

"Whoa. . ." said Skull.

"Any further thoughts?" Comedienne asked, grinning.

Skull blinked a few times, processing what Comedienne said.

"That makes me wonder. . .how often I might be missing unseen gems from small things around me, in my day to day life. Not just like that one obscure movie or manga no one has ever heard, y'know? But. . ." Skull trailed off, struggling to find the words.

"Unnoticed slapdashes of brilliant eloquence from people we least expect. Faces nobody recognises, usernames nobody has ever heard of. . ." said Comedienne.

"Yeah!"

"It's a kind of desensitisation. The emotions we get from proses, movies and music - are deconstructed and mechanised into a tomato percentage, into kudos, into view counts. . .Creating cultures of narcissism where cartels parrot of how a genre should be done," murmured Comedienne.

Comedienne thumbed her tachi, thinking about Yoshitsune. To the others, he was just a powerful Persona. To herself, Yoshitsune symbolised her love for Akira Kurosawa's powerful legacy of samurai Japanese cinema, of the black & white 20th century. French critics dunked on Kurosawa for being too western in the shadow of an older auteur, Kenji Mizoguchi. Kurosawa's samurais were known for rebelling against the odds and norms. Ren was the only one who understood her Yoshitsune this way, after she screened him _Perks of Being a Wallflower -_ the day Shiho died.

"Thinking about what you said. . .ya gotta question what's Madarame's deal in all this. How he built his fame as an artist, I mean. All those portraits of his ex-pupils we passed along the way. . .I reckon we've gotten only half the story from all that," said Skull.

"Mmhmm. Let's get moving. I think it's time we find a Safe Room."

X

The sound of a water feature running reminded Skull of something.

"Maaaaan. I'm busting to take a leak," said Skull.

They came to a golden-lit pond with koi fish swimming about. Comedienne noted - to their right was a courtyard, blocked off by green Ukiyo-e.

"Hold it in," Comedienne told him.

"But what if some Shadow scares me out of nowhere?" grumbled Skull.

Comedienne looked at him in askance.

"You're 16, Skull. Not 6."

Skull gravely considered the koi fish swimming contentedly in their pool. Comedienne's mouth formed a scandalised 'o' when she realised what he was thinking.

"Seriously dude?!"

"Why not?"

"That's their home! You can't piss in that!"

"Tsk. This is the metaverse, Shi – ah - Comedienne. So whaaat if I piss inside Madarame's cognition? What's the worse that could happen?" asked Skull.

"I-I don't know. Maybe water will start tasting off to him. . ."

 _Unzip._

"Oh jeez. . ." Comedienne hooded her eyes to give him privacy.

"Ahhhh. . ."

"Of all the places, Skull. .. You done?!"

"Hey. You can't rush a guy with this."

Comedienne fan-opened her fingers in a discreet peek. She swallowed back a spluttering cough when she learned Skull's Phantom Thief attire extended to chrome piercings _down there_.

While Skull had his dick out (it should be added that his gallon was almost emptied out – for those who are empathetical to the plight of a bursting bladder in a life or death scenario), a whooshing sound swished into their vicinity.

"Huh?" said Skull.

Nue's shadow silhouetted the artificial koi pond.

 _SPLASH._

Skull barely had time to jump back from the attempted head crush. He fell back, scrambling away from whatever tried to bomb-splash murder him. At the crevice where Skull was standing, the granite floor was scalped like a knife on butter's edge.

Skull's dick stood up, leaning towards the source of the disturbance like 'Yo what the fuck? I wasn't done!'

The hulking mass of Nue emerged from pool, his yellow fur matted and frosty from the water freezing around him.

 _Freezing? Does this Shadow have an ice spell?_ thought Comedienne.

From the earlier splash, ripples and waves held their peaks - fragile bead threads of water droplets spidered out. Sloshes of water gleamed in brilliant midspin towards splashdown. The image would have been beatific were it not for the twitching koi fish, harpooned on the sharper ends of the ice.

Two Jack Frosts dropped next to Nue, cackling like hellions.

Nue pointed to the unzipped Skull.

"Little thing-" said Nue.

"Hey! He's an all right size to me," interrupted Comedienne.

"No. You both little things. Me want to crush," spoke Nue.

Basso rumblings emanated from Nue's chest in his speech, vibrating the air. Comedienne uneasily stepped back, unsheathing her tachi. This Shadow was permeating a dangerous amount of physical strength. The little ones were dangerously cute too.

"Motherfuc-" Skull began, getting up to his feet and zipping up his pants.

"They froze the water to make our lightning powers less dangerous," said Comedienne.

"Yeah?" said Skull.

Skull pointed his F16 shotgun towards Nue. Electricity sparked and crackled at the baring double barrels.

"That ain't gonna stop me from trying," said Skull.

#

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Joker.

Caroline and Justine gasped and puffed, trying to drag the wiggling Persona that was inside the stringed rucksack.

"Why. . .is this one. . .so heavy. . ." panted Caroline.

Justine gave up on pulling the Persona towards the guillotine. Next to it was a second guillotine, another unknown Persona locked into its lunette.

"Don't just stand there, inmate! Help us!" ordered Justine.

Joker folded his arms. He looked back at the blue door the twins badgered him through, into his courtyard inner-heart. This was a waste of time. He should be finding the others now.

"Help you with what exactly?" asked Joker.

Caroline tripped over her own ankles, flailing into a fall.

"What does it look like? We're doing a fusion execution!" exclaimed Justine.

". . .and?"

Picking herself up, Caroline soured at the Trickster's oblivious questions.

"It unlocks your Wild Card, stupid!" said Caroline.

"My what? Wait – no. Forget that. Why are you kids unsupervised? Where's Igor? I want to talk to him about that shogi maestra he told me about," said Joker.

"Master is currently busy," said Justine.

Joker snorted.

"I can imagine. Playing high and mighty, raving biblical declarations to the next dumbass whose life has gone to shit. . .What does that guy even do for fun? Strippers and cocaine? Baking blueberry muffins? What's his deal?" asked Joker.

"Watch it, inmate. Master might tolerate your habitual sassing – but we will not stand for such crass. Besides, he's probably dealing with the other Trick-" Caroline stopped, when Justine shot her a warning glance.

Interest piqued in Joker. What was this? Igor actually was messing with another person?

"You were saying, Caroline?" prompted Joker.

"None of your concern, inmate. Now help us with this Shadow. We need it on the lunette. . ."

Joker's eyes shadowed beneath the mask. Interesting. Joker had an inkling that Igor wanted him and the Phantom Thieves to be frolicking about with their Personas – changing hearts. What Joker did not understand was why. This new information however. . .

 _Other 'Trick'. 'Trick'. . .Trick - ster? Another Trickster?_ thought Joker.

"We'll tell you where you can find Kitagawa Yusuke, if you cooperate," Justine bribed.

 _?_

"How is that guy here?" asked Joker.

"He was dragged in with your girlfriend," said Caroline.

"Ann's not my girlfriend," muttered Joker.

"Gee - we didn't specify her name. Interesting you brought up, Ann," said Caroline, cackling.

This snarky brat was starting to annoy Joker.

Justine added, "If you don't hurry, it will be too late for Yusuke."

 _Sorry, I'm having a hard time summoning the motivation to save some guy who's spent the entire afternoon rolling naked with Ann_ , Joker thought in sardonicism.

"Fine," said Joker, trying not to sound as strangulated as he felt.

Joker heaved up the second Shadow and locked it in place on the lunette. As his gloved hand was grazing over the blue silk, a thread of awareness pervaded into Joker's mind. Joker paused. Just now. . .it felt like he was connected to this Shadow. One that he guided to the guillotine.

A second thread joined in. Joker looked to the other unknown Shadow. Two threads. It felt akin to his connection with Arsene. What was going on?

"You said this this was a 'fusion execution'. What's going to happen?" asked Joker.

"Oh, we're killing parts of your inner psyche to create a new Persona," said Justine.

Joker blinked.

"Is that. . .healthy?" he asked.

"Errr. . .you'll live. Side effects might be light rash and short-lived nausea. No big deal," said Caroline.

Joker did not think Caroline was telling him everything.

"What happens to Arsene? I'm not going to lose him, am I?"

"Nope. Arsene stays for as long as you want him. I should have been more specific. You're going to be commandeering a second Persona," said Justine.

Joker stepped back from the guillotines.

"Which means beheading parts of me. . .inside my heart," said Joker.

Caroline and Justine exchanged glances with each other.

"Like Caroline said. You're not going to die. In fact, this Wild Card ability will make you stronger in the metaverse. Isn't that what you want, inmate? To become strong?" asked Justine.

 _. . .anything to bring down Shido. No matter the cost_ , thought Joker.

Joker smirked, bravado taking over his visage.

"Do it," said Joker.

When the blades fell, his smirk faltered – feeling the raw extent of inner deaths and rebirth. The grey in Joker's eyes changed its shade ever-slight.

Light coalesced between the guillotines, revealing one of the Death Arcana's anima.

"Meet your new Persona, inmate."

#

Lightning zig-zagged between Nue's legs. Sparks spat at the dagger of Comedienne's stilettos when she slid beneath the electric Z-arcs, her tachi's tip straining in reach to slash at Nue's shin. Skull leapt above Comedienne's spell, his shotgun priming electricity at the Jack Frost riding rodeo atop the chimera.

Nue swung his meaty paws to clap Skull's head into a burst tomato. Comedienne's eyes widened. She switched the flick of her blade and sent it up – lodging it into Nue's elbow, stopping the clap. At the same time, Skull's shotgun went off, killing the Jack Frost. Skull landed precariously on Nue's shoulder, pumping his shotgun.

Comedienne yanked at her tachi - nearly dislocating her wrist in the process of finding that her weapon was stuck on Nue's cartilage. In tandem, Nue swung his arm up and flicked Comedienne towards the green Ukiyo-e. Skull's comrade yelped in pain.

"Shiori!" shouted Skull, unable to help himself.

In accommodation to Comedienne's airborne fling, the Ukiyo-e frames moved aside like an open-shuffle card deck, revealing the walkway to a central garden area. She landed, skipping twice like a flat stone on water, landed, sliding into a drag – then motionless.

The second Jack Frost jumped behind Skull and bit into his shoulder, frost spidering from the bite. Skull swore, wildly swinging his battle hammer while losing his balance in the process. The Jack Frost leapt out of reach. Nue picked Skull off his shoulder and tossed him with the etiquette of a quarterback dealing American football.

Although Skull's crash landing was somewhat softened by the hedges, the impact knocked the orientation out of his senses into a painful dizzy.

#

To Yusuke, everything which transpired in the past one hour had made Madarame go from a sacred symbol of art's purity, to a living middle finger of 'Eat shit and die' in the direction of Sayuri and everything Yusuke thought he knew about his life. The constant depression gave Yusuke a nihilistic coin to flip in his imagination. Heads, he suffered a mental breakdown and was currently in an asylum, bound in a stray jacket; completely oblivious to the real world as he walked through this madness phantasm of a strange museum.

Tails could be. . .

Little monsters of blue and white entered the reception room, holding shards of ice-blades. One of them informed Yusuke he was going to stab him in five different places, where it would hurt a lot.

Oh yeah, tails could be that.

Four Jack Frosts surrounded Yusuke with the impression of lurid intentions. Yusuke lethargically looked to his right then left, slightly perturbed that his hallucination of this strange world gave form to some pretty realistic looking ice-shards. It was almost like they _were real_. Ha. Yusuke cracked up, laughing at the inanity of such a notion.

The Jack Frosts glanced at each other, silently agreeing they had a cuckoo one in their hands. The Jack Frosts laughed. Everyone laughed.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Be done with it so I can wake up from all this," said Yusuke, wiping a tear from his sad eye.

A shard was raised – its icy reflective surface glinting in the lighting. A glint winked to its sharp-end point, light into an infinite nothing. It swung to Yusuke's chest.

A report of gunfire. The ice-shard shattered.

The Jack Frost looked at his hand. He was missing both his spell-crafted weapon and fingers. Everyone's attention turned to the source of the disturbance.

Curlicues of smoke trailed out of the barrel of Joker's Berretta M9. His head tilted sideways with the gun when he saw Panther was not here.

"Where is she?" asked Joker.

 _That voice. . .is that Takamaki's friend? Ren?_ thought Yusuke.

"You mean Takamaki-san? She's not here. The last thing I remembered was trying to help her. . .then I woke up here," said Yusuke.

"Help?"

"Madarame-sensei. . .he. . .he called the police on her when she exposed his crimes in the atelier," said Yusuke.

 _We were right about Madarame then_ , thought Joker.

"I did not think it was fair for her to get in trouble for uprooting his lies," said Yusuke.

". . ."

 _Why was Yusuke pulled into the metaverse with Ann? The last time something like that happened. . .!_ Realisation took root in Joker. Yusuke was a Persona user? Judging by his attire, the artist had not yet awakened.

This muse was interrupted by two ice shards flung his way. This antagonistic gesture by the Jack Frosts marked near-unconcern for Joker. He rolled his trigger finger into a double action shot. _Bang._ A quick single. _Bang_.

Both shards exploded in mid-air, drizzling sparkle dust. Before the shell casing of the second bullet bounced off the floor, a third shot reported from the M9. The bullet struck on the forehead of the Jack Frost that tried to kill Yusuke earlier. It fell back dead.

Yusuke gasped, feeling the warmth from the blood splattering on him.

"All of this is. . .real?" said Yusuke.

Joker held off the M9's single-action shot. He pinched the corner of his mask, deliberating which Persona he was going to use here.

"The sooner you come into terms with the metaverse, the easier it will be to 'remove your mask'. After all, your girlfriend is a Phantom Thief," said Joker.

Even Yusuke caught the traces of acid in Joker's words.

"My girlfriend. . .? Takamaki-san? No. You've got it wro-"

Yusuke's words drowned in the screechy cries of the remaining three Jack Frosts. They bounced and kicked up ice ramps at their feet, in an advancing attack to Joker.

 _Rude little rascals_ , thought Joker – he ripped off his mask.

" _Arsene!_ "

#

Chaos screeched into Comedienne's ears - like Satan motorbiking like a maniac out of heaven, while the cherubs and angels rioted holy curses after him for sneakily sticking his finger up the Big Guy's divine arsehole. Comedienne screwed her forehead, discomforted. Familiar voices added to the mix of chaos's ambience.

"Oh no, you don't! Dance Carmen, dance!"

"Take this!"

Scorches and gusts. Nue roared.

Comedienne stirred, cracking open her dim vision. A firefly glowed in the distance. It came closer, clarifying into the chockful of fire Panther conjured at her fist. She flung it in Nue's face, obscuring his line of sight in a dodgeball inferno. Her whip cracked through the flames, taking out one of his eyes. Nue yelped.

The muscly Persona pounced forward and dissipated into a black cloud, trying to dance closer to Panther. A scimitar came spinning around like a boomerang. It cracked into the stonework like thunder, burying halfway to its hilt. A little cat's paw snapped its finger.

A vorticose gust exploded from the scimitar, pushing away Nue's incorporeal form from Panther. Skull entered the fray, drunkenly shaking his head. More Jack Frosts emerged from behind the hedges, their black eyes in cartoon evil.

Comedienne tried to stand. She bit back a cry of pain, feeling like there was broken glass in the insides of her leg and hip. That bastard Nue did a huge number on her.

Mona landed next to Comedienne.

"You okay?" asked Mona.

"I can't move my left leg," said Comedienne.

Mona's pupils went small on seeing the disjointed way Comedienne's lapsed limb was in.

"Errmm. No surprise. Nue broke your bones in two different places. Maybe more. Hold still, I'm starting the healing spell. . ."

Comedienne tried to not cry in front of Mona. It was hurting more than she dared to show in front of the others. As the green glow diffused more, Comedienne saw pairs of little legs trying to sneak up behind Mona.

"Mona-" Comedienne tried to warn.

Black feathers fell in the courtyard of the central garden. A gentleman's mellifluous laughter commanded the attention of everyone fighting. Panther looked up. Her heart soared, recognising the Persona.

They were going to be alright.

Arsene descended to the Jack Frosts. His wings caught aflame in a blue streak. The little guys had only enough time to see a lanky angel in a tux swoop upon them, claws extended – a manic grin curving beneath his top hat.

Disembowelled parts of Jack Frosts tossed up in the air, like stir fry ingredients.

"About effin' time," said Skull; he bashed in the head of another Jack.

Joker dropped by Mona, almost frightening the cat. Despite herself, Comedienne was pleased to see he was okay.

"What happened?" asked Joker.

Comedienne flexed her healed leg. It felt a little numb – but okay. She picked herself up.

"Oh. . .Skull got his dick out to take a leak and I found out his entire nutsack is armoured in this pirate skull. . .which was when we got ambushed by Shadows. That Nue dude tried to say Skull had a small penis but I didn't think so and I'm sure you'd agree Joker if you saw it too. After that we got our asses handed to us and they were about to turn us into garden fertiliser until Mona and Panther showed up. . .Basically nothing unusual, really. You?" said Comedienne.

"I kissed Panther. . ." muttered Joker.

". . .WHAT?!" Mona and Comedienne said in unison.

"This infiltration has a complication. It's Yusuke," said Joker.

"Yusuke? What about him?" asked Panther.

Joker turned around. There she was. Those blue eyes beneath the mask, its contours perfectly memorised by Joker. Judging by the way Panther was biting her lips, ( _Argh! Stop being so attractive!_ thought Joker) she seemed to be remembering his own contours; the ones she learned through touch and not sight. Almost all at once, the emotions of the past day reverberated through Joker. He wanted to hold her so badly, cafuné his fingers through her fluffy pigtails, apologise, tell her about his terrible night at Ellison's party. So many things.

"Panther. . ." said Joker.

"I dun' geddit, but it looks like the enemy is withdrawing. Even Nue is holding back at a distance. Also. . .someone said 'Yusuke'? What's going on?" asked Skull.

"That - I'd like to know myself," said Yusuke, joining the group.

"I told you, it would be safer if you hung back," said Joker.

"Kitagawa-kun? Huh? How are you here?" asked Panther.

"You don't look so well, dude," said Skull.

Comedienne probed a look to Joker. He nodded.

 _Another Persona user. Will he join us?_ thought Comedienne.

"It has been a queer day. My sensei turns out to be someone I don't recognise. My nude model artist drags me into a reality that is somehow familiar, yet confusing. Now here I am, surrounded by all manners of the supernatural. If I didn't know better, I'd say I've gone insane," said Yusuke.

"You're not insane. This is the metaverse," said Mona.

Yusuke stared at the cat that just spoke. Skull sighed.

"Not helping, Mona," said Skull.

It was then the Palace ruler arrived. The gang went uncertainly quiet, feeling the ominous changes around them.

The drafts in the windy garden suddenly dropped dead. The jeering of the Jack Frosts in the bushes went silent. The large ostrich doors at the end opened. Out stepped Shadow Madarame with his guards.

Yusuke straightened up, seeing his sensei in a form that was so. . .audacious and gaudy. A kimono of linen that reflected like gold. His face was touched up by make-up, with a dab of red at his lips. His hair was done up in a Japanese topknot. The whole image was akin to-

"First a king. Now we're dealing with some shogun with bullshit clothes," said Skull.

Shadow Madarame grinned, revealing a row of pearlescent teeth. Too pearlescent. It was almost glowing as he declared:

"Welcome to the museum of the master artiste, Madarame. You seem to have caught us during closing hours!"

Yusuke stepped lethargically, ahead of the others. It was harder for him to breath now. Something was broiling within him. Murmurs of a voice within – almost indiscernible.

"Sensei. . .? Is that you? That. . .attire," said Yusuke, running his eyes up and down this vain Madarame.

". . .this is all one big lie, isn't it?" asked Yusuke.

Shadow Madarame raised his chin. Comedienne decided she disliked this Shadow more than Shadow Kamoshida. Shadow Madarame managed to be hauteur in the most aggravating manner possible.

"My usual attire is nothing but an act. Besides, a famous person living in a shack? Peh! I have another home. . .under a mistress's name, of course. Didn't you ever think it was strange Yusuke, how I was only ever around the atelier to oversee how the paintings were coming along? Well. . .that, and to check up on the 'Sayuri'," said Shadow Madarame.

"That painting. The art agencies believed for all this time that the 'Sayuri' was stolen. Why was it in the storage room? If you had the real one, why make copies!?" said Yusuke.

". . ."

The tremolo distress in Yusuke's voice picked up, "If it's really you, sensei, please tell me."

"Foolish child. You still don't see it, do you? The painting being stolen was just a false rumour I spread! It was all an immaculately staged planning!" said Madarame.

Yusuke gaped.

"What do you mean?" said Yusuke.

"Let me see. . .if you had too much money and vanity, how would this sound to you? ' _I found the real painting, but there's no need for it to go public. . .You can have it. . .For a special price, of course_ ,' Haha! How's – _that_ – for preferential treatment? Every art snob ate it up and paid good fucking cash for it!" said Shadow Madarame.

"No. . ." croaked Yusuke.

"The worth of art is purely subjective. . .thus technically it was a legitimate business transaction! Though I doubt a brat like you could understand the ingenuity of such a scheme! Peh. All these years in the art world, Yusuke. . .what did you learn about it? Wetting your paintbrushes? Bah! You've barely understood the most important things facets of this ugly beast people call the 'art world'. All kinds of vices your _artistic_ eye has glazed over, never seeing its true schemes in the dark underbelly. Crimes. . .worse than what someone like me has done!" said Shadow Madarame.

". . . _He saw a revolution, an intercession where the art world meets human trafficking. . ._ " _said Ellison._

Joker suspected Madarame was involved with the Live Mannequin syndicate to some degree. Yet his Shadow was confessing as if. . .he was not directly in the heart of it? Interesting.

Yusuke fell to his knees. Comedienne made to step forward to help him. Joker stopped her, shaking his head.

'Why?' Comedienne mouthed.

". . .no. . .please. . ." said Yusuke.

"Yusuke needs to come into terms with this on his own. All this time he's led a sheltered life in Madarame's dark umbrella," Joker murmured.

"You keep goin' on and on about _money this_ , _money that_. No wonder you ended up with this disgustin' museum!" flared Skull.

"You're supposed to be an artist, right?! Aren't you ashamed of plagiarising other people's work?!" Panther added.

"What – what about the people who believed in you. . .? Who think you are a master artist. . .?!" said Yusuke.

"Art is nothing but a tool to gain fame and fortune! You thought I took you in out of the goodness of my heart? Plucking talented, yet troubled artists allows me to find promising pupils and take their ideas. After all, it's much easier to steal the futures of children who can't fight back. Better yet. . ." Shadow Madarame smirked, ". . .a mother's future with her child," said Shadow Madarame.

The air went frigid.

"What. . .did you say. . ." said Yusuke.

The yellow of Shadow Madarame's eyes winked that glint of madness. His voice deepened:

"Yes. I'm talking about your mother, boy. I'll tell you this alone, Yusuke. Once upon a time, there was a single mother trying to support her art career and raise her beloved son. Yet the poverty of unknown artists was such that merely trying to survive made her sickly and desperate. She came to me in hopes that I would provide her with a secure sanctum to learn and find income. Her skills and talent were quite astonishing. Better than even you, Yusuke. Which was why I accepted her. . ."

". . .!"

"She owed her wretched life to me! Both of you! Your mother and the artwork she created – they were all MY works of art! Did you ever stop to think, Yusuke – why you were so drawn to 'Sayuri' in the first place? All those hours when you would stare hungrily at the painting, mistaking your obsession to be purely for adulation of technical skill. . .when it was so much more?" sneered Shadow Madarame.

Yusuke gasped.

"You mean. . ." said Yusuke.

"Indeed. The 'Sayuri' was created by your mother. It's a portrait of herself. Of a woman who took solace in the tenderness of caring for her baby son. That's the truth behind the mystery of 'Sayuri''s expression! A woman's unadulterated love and kindness! You too were in the painting, Yusuke – as a baby. Until I added my own touches to it, greying you out," said Shadow Madarame.

"But why?!" cried out Yusuke.

"That afternoon. . .when I walked into our shambolic atelier, I knew at first glance what 'Sayuri' could be, if the public saw it. If I added my own touch to it and declared it under my name!" said Shadow Madarame.

"But why paint over. . .me, over the baby in the picture?" asked Yusuke.

". . .It was all to stage it. If the baby was erased, the reason for the woman's expression would become a mystery! That is what the general public is drawn to! Not honest expressions of art! Not any kinds of art which are badged with little numbers! They want the ostentatious, that which can be sensationalised! Each of those fucking parasitic critics wrote the exact same fucking thing about 'Sayuri''s expression!" said Shadow Madarame.

"Yusuke's mother. . .you did something to her, didn't you? How else could your plans for 'Sayuri' succeed?" said Comedienne.

Shadow Madarame snickered.

"I did no such thing. One morning, when you were asleep in your cot, Yusuke – she just so happened to have a seizure in front of me. Falling to her knees as you are now. Reaching out, gasping at me. . . _begging. . ._ begging me! To call for help. I looked in her eyes and saw the fear. It wasn't the fear of dying. It was the fear of leaving her child to this cruel world. . ." said Shadow Madarame.

"How could you. . ." whispered Yusuke.

"That was when the thought crossed my mind. If I didn't call for help and left her be, I could claim the painting for my own with no strings attached. If anything, your mother dying was destiny. Just as livestock are slaughtered for their hide and meat. She was no different! She needed to die for 'Sayuri' to become famous. To make me rich. _No matter the cost_. Your mother was physically weak. No one would have doubted if she dropped dead because of seizure. No one would have _especially_ doubted the kind old man, who was gracious enough to adopt her orphaned son and look after him," said Shadow Madarame.

"You let her die, for what you think is art. . .art killed my mother. . .?" said Yusuke.

"The world was better off with a masterpiece than a weakly woman who did not understand the business. She deserved to die," said Shadow Madarame.

The Phantom Thieves were shocked speechless. Everyone was waiting for Yusuke to do or say something. Yusuke's back was turned to them, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed.

"Joker. . ." said Comedienne.

"Wait," said Joker.

Madarame spoke, "I tire of this little chat. It is time I-"

"You are unforgivable," said Yusuke; the vibrato fury rising in his quiet words.

"Hmm?" said Shadow Madarame.

"Every reason I had to forgive you. . .for the lies. . .for the plagiarism. . .for the abuse, it has all disappeared in this very moment! You were never an artist! You're a despicable snake who wears the faux skin of an artist!" Yusuke stood up, fists balled, "I won't forgive you!"

"Repaying me with that ingratitude after I kept you around for all these years? Hahahaha! You are indeed your mother's son. Even she could not die fast enough when she realised no one was coming to save her. Watching her crawl pathetically to your sleeping form, just so she could hold your hand. She dared not wake you lest your last memories of her be of death. Her desperation to cling onto life irritated me greatly. Just as you are doing, right now!" spat Shadow Madarame.

"This is no ingratitude. . .I wanted to believe the rumours about you were not true! To the point of hurting myself, slipping into depression as I clouded my vision from the truth. . .My eyes were truly blind. . .Blind and unable to see the true self behind your Janus mask, Madarame!" Yusuke growled.

Joker felt his Personas ripple within. All the others did. Yusuke's will of rebellion resonated, tuning in to the same frequency as their own Personas.

 _At last_ , thought Joker.

Yusuke's vision flashed red.

"Ngh!"

Goemon was not gentle.

 _Have you finally come to your senses? How foolish of you to have averted your eyes from the truth. A deplorable imitation indeed._

Yusuke clutched his head, the pain becoming unbearable.

"A-Aaaaagh!"

 _Best you part from that aspect of yourself!_

Yusuke's nails dug onto the tiles, breaking and bleeding red lines.

 _Let us now forge a contract…_

 _I am thou, thou art I. . ._

 _The world is filled with both beauty and vice. . ._

 _It is time you teach people which is which!_

The kitsune mask flashed on Yusuke's face. Fingers shaking and dripping with blood - he traced four bloody lines across the fox imitation.

"Very well," said Yusuke

He ripped his mask off. The power unleashed.

" _Come! Goemon!_ "

* * *

 **I wanted to title this chapter 'Penis Battle Armour'.**

 **While Ren is kind of stingy to Yusuke in this chapter, I can assure you that is a temporary motion brought about by Ann's solicitation for jealousy. Ren and Yusuke's friendship will become strong, just like in the game.**


	30. Lemon Mint

.

In hindsight, Joker should have attempted a boss fight start right there and then against Shadow Madarame, rather than letting him escape. Why wait? thought Joker, jumping over an oversized snowflake shuriken (these Jack Frosts sure liked being violently artsy).

It was not like his life was an existential dilemma of needing to necessitate JRPG storyline longevity-

Joker's back bumped against Yusuke's.

"Oh! My apologies!" said Yusuke.

Blood trailed down the kitsune mask's eye-slit. An effigy of crying blood from the Jack Frosts' slashed off Yusuke's katana. Joker could make out the frosty sparkles on those delicate long eyelashes shying out into skewering quills that arched above the eye-holes. As Yusuke's grip tightened into dexterous familiarity with the blade, his acquaintance with ice powers came to show.

Nue leapt at the two of them, his hulking shadow shrouding both Joker and Yusuke. The chimera's fists clamped together for the cannonball smash. Arsene was engaged at the opposite side of the garden area, bitch-slapping and clawing off endless streams of Jack Frosts, as if a bunch of kindergarten children were trying to take on a fifteen-year-old. Joker's Persona was too far. The others swayed in the distraction of seeing the duo in trouble.

Panther gasped.

"Look out!" said Panther.

Yusuke hesitated, a part of him freezing up at this sudden incoming juggernaut. Neither perturbed nor surprised by Yusuke's quirk of the inexperienced, Joker ripped off his mask.

" _Matador!_ "

Red swished over Yusuke's vision – a cape embroidered in silvery threads stitching tiny skulls in metrical arrangement. Each of these skulls on the embroidery came to life, their sockets glowing up starry sparks. Yusuke distinctly heard Joker say, " _Psi_."

Nue comet slammed down, detonating a rippling crater on stoneworks cracking. A plosion of dust and debris went up from where Joker and Yusuke were standing. Blood spurted out of the cloud dusts, like geysers in hot springs. Nue flexed his sticky fingers, feeling a sense of bloody satisfaction. The cloud settled downwards, dissipating into a fading helix. The victims came into view.

The chimera's remaining good eye widened.

Dead Jack Frosts laid deformed beneath Nue's meaty fists.

" _Sukukaja_."

Something stepped on Nue's snake-tail – the dark shoes of a bullfighter. Nue spun, swinging his meaty arms. Matador's heels clicked as if to dance a Spanish courtship fandango; kicking up the snake's head in easy grace. The hissing snake's head launched into the air. Joker dismissed Matador. Nue's swing passed through the ghostly fading of the Persona. Joker lunged beneath, grabbing the head of Nue's poisonous tail.

It happened quick.

Joker leapt directly onto Nue, surprising the Shadow. One hand grasped - fisting onto the white mane. The other shoved the snarling snake's head into Nue's mouth.

" _Psi_."

The spell would not have worked on Nue the second time, its evanescent effect spent on one mind. Thus, Joker went for the other.

Trapped inside the wet fleshy cavity, the snake panicked. When Joker's Psy spell took over, it lost its mind. Berserkness compelled excess venom discharge and biting.

Joker leapt off the howling Nue.

Nue clawed at his face, the deep spearing pains robbing his own sense of delicateness as he tried to remove his tail from his mouth. The snake felt itself being tugged. It clamped its fangs hard into Nue's oesophagus and anchored. Nue choked, rasped then keeled. The venom was trickling deep inside of him.

Upon seeing the horror-show, every remaining Jack Frost in the vicinity scampered out of sight – spooked. Comedienne stepped by Joker's side.

"That's quite the reflex gag you gave him," she commented.

Gurgling sounds were coming out of Nue's mouth. Blood-tinted foam spilled from the corners of his orifice. The Shadow desperately seized at his tail, holding two points like a rope.

Joker raised an eyebrow. The others realised what was going to happen.

" _Oh. . ._ shit," said Skull.

Nue grasped the snake tightly. Twisting. He tore his tail in a bloodletting half. Again, Nue tried to pull the snake out. He could not. The deadly toxin was failing his once-mighty strength. Power undone by its own power.

The red in Nue's eyes was once as vivid as a rooster's wattle. Now the colour dimmed, desaturating to green because of the poison. Those eyes never left Joker. 'You did this to me,' they said. Joker was indifferent to this vindication.

"End him," Joker said to Comedienne.

Comedienne snickered.

"Bothers you to see your enemy suffer?" asked Comedienne.

But Comedienne did summon her tachi. Lightning cackled at its curved tip.

Joker bristled.

"You know me better than that, Shiori," Joker muttered.

She did.

"I just don't think it's necessary for the others to see something like this prolonged," added Joker.

Joker went to group up with the others.

The tachi's tip kissed the ground. Comedienne's pupils changed to the red shade of Yoshitsune's eyes for a second. Thicker tendrils of lightning charged into her weapon. She walked towards Nue, trail-arcing oxide and electric sparks along her stilettos.

Nue's breathing was laboured. He was not going to get up.

Comedienne dipped her fingers into Nue's white mane. Her digits combed through the silken threads. It was so soft. . .

 _I was going to bring Yoshitsune out - just for you_ , _sweetie_ , she thought.

The tachi blade was raised. A pause. The weapon glimmered, gathering its lightning cutting edge. Comedienne swung down.

Nue's head rolled, kicked into the obscurity of the garden's foliage.

When Comedienne returned to the others, she found Yusuke was being fussed over. The lanky boy had taken off his mask, perspiring sheets of rolling sweat. Even his metaverse attire was drenched, pressing close to his bony clavicle. Mona pressed a paw onto Yusuke's chest, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Comedienne.

Mona's ear-tips drooped in uncertainty.

"He's not injured on the inside. But for some reason he's burning up the reserves of his strength fast," said Mona.

"That didn't happen with you guys, did it? The day you awoke your Personas," asked Panther.

Everyone sans Yusuke shook their heads.

"My butt felt kinda itchy that day?" Skull volunteered.

Comedienne caught onto the joke.

"Mine too," said Comedienne.

Joker nodded gravely.

"What?!" said Panther, pressing her hand to her mouth, wondering why she was the exception.

"This may be my fault," said Yusuke.

"Huh?" said Skull.

"I took to indulging in psychedelics, before my painting session was to start with Takamaki-san," said Yusuke.

Mona winced.

"Perception altering substances mixing with the metaverse? Big yikes. It's a miracle you didn't lose your sanity during your awakening," said Mona.

"He's not fit to continue. We need to get him out of here before he passes out," said Comedienne.

"I'm. . .sorry. I do not wish to be a burden," said Yusuke.

"Whaddaya mean, dude?" asked Skull.

 _Madarame must have embrittled his sense of self-worth. Worrying about superficial things like being a burden to us_ , thought Joker.

It reminded Joker of his first week with Sojiro.

"We're leaving. Skull - help me with Yusuke. . ." said Joker.

#

The suburbs were dark when they stumbled onto the pavements. Ryuji grunted. The momentum of phasing out the metaverse had transferred Yusuke's leaning weight onto his broken leg. At the other arm, Ren quickly noticed Ryuji's dilemma and further hoisted Yusuke into canting towards him more. Ren could feel the guy trembling next to him. Ryuji noticed too. They exchanged knowing glances.

"I guess I'll be leaving. . .I'm sorry to have bothered you all. I'm also sorry about today, Takamaki-san," said Yusuke.

"You're going back to Madarame?" asked Ann.

Yusuke hesitated.

"No. . .not now. I wish to be away from the atelier. Sensei's words. . .they scraped deep, leaving me raw to confusion and other things. . ." said Yusuke.

Shiori folded her arms.

"You don't have any other place to go, do you?" said Shiori.

Yusuke was quiet.

Ren adjusted Yusuke's arm. As he did, the key to his coupé accidentally fell out the jacket's breast pocket. The silver jaguar insignia glinted beneath the street light.

Ann picked up the key, turning it over, puzzled.

"What's this for?" she asked Ren.

The others were also curious.

"Err. . .that's. . ." Ren thought about the car, parked a stone's throw away. No way they were all going to fit in the supercar. It was a two-seater.

". . .let's get out of here. Maybe we'll get something to eat in Shibuya. I'll explain everything there-" Ren's eyes met Ann's, "-There is a lot to explain. Yusuke, you're coming with us," said Ren.

"Why are you. . ." Yusuke began.

"We'll catch the bus. Save you the walking so you can regain some of your strength. They should still be running at this time," said Ren.

 _I'll pick the Jaguar up, later_ , thought Ren.

* * *

12 AM Big Bang Burger was usually an idle atmosphere. That one businessman who had fallen asleep at his booth, with an untouched Comet Burger and fries in front of him. The bored staff pretended to look busy in front of their nit-picky manager, even though the place was near-empty.

Near emptiness ended when the front doors banged open, waking the businessman into a butt-jump on his seat. Street breeze strayed a spiralling leaf through the entrance, followed by Ryuji, Shiori, Yusuke, Ann and Ren.

"I'm starving!" barked Ryuji.

"I can do the honours of securing us a table," said Yusuke.

"But the entire place is empty?" said Ryuji.

"Indeed," said Yusuke.

"Are you for real, dude?" said Ryuji.

"How about you order for the rest of us? I'll explain everything to Yusuke while we wait," Shiori said to Ren.

Ren nodded.

"What do you guys want?" asked Ren.

Ann hung back while the others listed what they wanted. When Ren prompted her order, she said she'd tag with him since she was still deciding. Ren's charcoal eyebrows raised sceptically at that.

The fast food staff all paused from what they were doing, curious about this rowdy, if not - peculiar group of teenagers. Tête-à-tête at a booth, the blue-haired bishōnen leaned forward to the animated brunette with cyber-violet eyes, while the devil-may-care blond slouched languid at her corner-side. The other two were apart from the booth; a blonde girl with platinum glow-up that energised the dull burger joint into a supermodel stardom haunt. She effeminately tugged at the sleeve of the impassive dark-hair gentleman (a romantic familiarity, the staff decided), saying something to him then pointing to the displayed menu screens.

A pimpled college guy with a nasally voice greeted Ann and Ren, "Welcome to Big Bang Burger. What would like to order?"

Ren gave the punctilious order - listing out the double patties for Ryuji, the banana shake for Yusuke on the side, Shiori's Saturn Fries with aioli sauce, his own chilli burger meal. . .

Ren paused, waiting for Ann to say something.

"I'll have what he's having," said Ann.

"You like spicy?" asked Ren.

Ann shrugged, spinning her pigtail's torsion end.

"I like spicy. _A lot_. But if I don't like the burger, you'll have to make up for it," she said.

Ann leaned closer to him.

"You have to make up for a lot of things already. I'm not leaving your side tonight until then," she uttered sotto voce.

The cashier raised his eyebrows.

"Would you two. . .like to join our special Astro Couple rewards program? You'll get membership discounts whenever you order a Triple Berry Sundae shake. We make them big with two straws," said the staff.

Ren's face went blank.

"How much will this order be?" asked Ren, stonily holding out his debit card.

X

By the time their orders arrived at the table; trays holding colonnades of fizzy cola, frothy milkshakes, mini-buckets of fries vaunting fat calories and their companion burgers, Shiori had explained the basics of everything that had happened to the group since they were first pulled into Kamoshida's Palace.

Yusuke had somewhat recovered from his earlier bovine weakness, albeit retaining his achromatous pallor. When he took the first bite of burger, some colour flooded back into his cheeks. Yusuke did not tell the others this was the first time he had warm food and company, in months.

". . .I see. And because of that, this P.E teacher had a change of heart," said Yusuke.

"You're not sceptical?" asked Shiori; at her laps, Morgana's black ears stuck above the table line's edge.

Yusuke stared at all the free food before him. It was free right? he wondered. He could not pay for his share.

"No, I believe you. . .There's no need for common sense to blind me after seeing a world like that. It means the Phantom Thieves who steal hearts. . .they truly exist," said Yusuke.

Ryuji grinned through his straw-sipping.

"You guys heard that? People are talkin' about us," said Ryuji.

"I'm not sure if I like that," muttered Shiori while scratching behind Morgana's ears.

"Yes. The students at Kosei were discussing it among all the other tabloid rumours," said Yusuke.

"Tabloid rumours?" asked Ann.

"Trivial tit-tat for rumour talk. Students working for the mafia. Our shogi princess dating an ace detective. A break-up by popular upperclassmen. The urban legend of the Phantom Thieves. That sort," said Yusuke.

Ren had a guess of who that 'shogi princess' was but did not say anything. Ace detective though? Hmm. Ren wondered if that meant anything important.

Yusuke interlocked his long fingers. He tried to remember how his mother's hands were contoured. Madarame said she held his hand in her dying moments. How did they look on his smaller fingers?

Pain pinpricked in Yusuke's chest, like a yarn ball of needles inverted outwards. Artist blocks could be removed with drugs, with hedonistic lust, with muse or even allowing time to pass until creative epiphany struck. But no psychedelic could fill this hole Yusuke felt in his chest. He had no one in his life who genuinely cared for him. Madarame's care was an illusion. Yusuke never knew his real father.

Yusuke's fingers interlocked tighter. Anger and desolation joined inside of him.

And his mother was murdered for dollars.

 _All I can do now_ \- Yusuke remembered the bottle of pills he kept beneath his pillow. That was enough to finish off a person three times his size, if he took it all in one go, - _is nip what is a pointless life. But first, I must seek retribution before going that far. These people I've met. . .they can help me_ , thought Yusuke.

Shiori's pampering scratching behind Morgana's ear had induced a purring paroxysm of feline ecstasy. In the purring thrummed silence, they waited for Yusuke to say something.

"Your plan with Madarame-sensei – with Madarame. . .is to force a change of heart, correct? Like what you did to that teacher at Shujin?" asked Yusuke.

The others nodded.

"Let me join. . .As a member of the Phantom Thieves," said Yusuke.

Ryuji folded his arms.

"You sure, dude? We won't stop ya' - but it's just. . .Madarame was like a father to you," said Ryuji.

"When he confesses, he will go to jail. You will be a part of making that happen," Morgana chipped in.

 _And I shall be going to the afterlife, when we succeed_ , thought Yusuke.

"I am very sure. Had I faced reality sooner, much of this plagiarism and abuse would have been avoided-" Yusuke took a deep breath in, "-I must put an end to this for the sake of others. Those whose futures as artists were ruined for one man's madness. That – is the most civil thing I can do for the person who was. . .in some manner, my father," said Yusuke.

 _A fitting end it will be. For both of us_ , thought Yusuke.

That familiar doubt pressed in Ann. It was an instinct Ann felt when Shiho lied to her about everything being all right.

". . .'Civil' huh," said Ann.

Ryuji picked up a lemon mint candy from the complimentary basket, popping it into his mouth, "Fine by me. We're gonna deal with Madarame anyways," he said with a shrug.

"He may have a mental shutdown if we screw up. We have ways to prevent that, but they aren't that fail-safe. Remember when Shiori mentioned that in her explanation?" said Morgana.

"Madarame is a titan who has the art world under his thumb. His connections to organisations are many. Some of them illegal. If someone like me raises my voice, it will be ignored then snuffed out when I'm forgotten. . .I have no option but this," said Yusuke.

Despite the earlier craziness in Madarame's atelier, Ann felt a pang of worry and sympathy for Yusuke. Tonight must have been so difficult for him, hearing the truth of why his mother died and now resolving to do something as flummoxing as turning against the man who was responsible for both his livelihood and his mother's death. At least with Kamoshida, it was easy for her to hate the man as black and white. This situation was shades of grey for Yusuke.

"It's a deal then!" said Morgana.

"As long as you remember to go to the bathroom before metaverse stuff," said Shiori, rolling her eyes.

"Oh c'mon, Shiori. . ." Ryuji began.

Shiori averted her eyes from Ryuji's; fuchsia stained cheeks beneath violet.

Ann beamed.

"We have a new member in the Phantom Thieves now! I hope we get along, Yusuke!" said Ann.

"You better not slow us down," Ryuji bantered.

"Welcome to the team, my samurai buddy," said Shiori.

Yusuke bowed his head.

"I'll do my best."

Yusuke did not plan to tell the others what he was going to do, once Madarame's heart was stolen.

Ren cleared his throat.

"Just. . .no more nude paintings. Also, I'd like to talk to you about those connections you mentioned," said Ren.

Yusuke noticed everyone listening intently at Ren with respect. That must mean he was the leader of this group. It was somewhat different for Ann, who had been slowly sidling closer to Ren, inch-by-inch for the past half hour. Their shoulders were in contact now.

"Oh?" said Yusuke.

"Any reason?" Shiori asked, curious.

"Many reasons. We have. . .a problem – no, that's silly. We have numerous problems of course, with Makoto snooping around, bathroom ethics-"

"Seriously dude?!"

"- and Madarame. One more has just been added to Shujin," said Ren.

"What is it?" asked Ann.

Those photographs from Ico Tower flashed into Ren's mind eye. Ellison's information and seduction. This 'cleaner'. The stint with Haru's harassers. It was a good story to tell and the others did ask Ren why he was wearing a tuxedo, on their way here. But. . .

Ren checked the time on his phone. 12:42 AM.

Maybe not tonight.

". . .I'll explain everything later. Yusuke. . .you look like shit, dude. Tired too. That stuff you got in your system needs to be flushed out – otherwise you ain't going into the metaverse with us anytime soon-" Ren took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, "-We're all tired. Today has been a long day," he said.

"Yeah. . .I'm pretty beat myself. All this food is makin' me sleepier for my pillow," yawned Ryuji.

"Oh, that reminds me. . .I wonder what is going on with the real Madarame. Yusuke and I were in a pretty tight situation. . ." said Ann.

"Actually, I contacted him before we came here. He believes I continued pursuing Takamaki-san. And. . .just as you all explained, it appears he knows nothing about his Shadow," said Yusuke.

"What did he say?" asked Ann.

"He was complaining to the security company, how they could not even catch one flighty high school girl. No doubt our metaverse getaway has them bamboozled. However, he's still furious about getting exposed today and said that he's going to take legal action against everyone," said Yusuke.

 _!_ _! !_

"Talk about bein' completely on guard. . ." huffed Ryuji.

"Legal action. . .He's acting way too desperate," said Ann.

"Desperado," agreed Shiori.

"Maybe he still has more secrets," suggested Ann.

"I bet he does," Ren said grimly.

"If he were to act, it'd be after the exhibit is over. Any scandal during the show would be grime to his image," said Yusuke.

"We'll have to force a change of heart before then, if we're to dodge this 'legal action' thing. Our plan must be accomplished while the exhibit is still open!" said Morgana.

Yusuke considered Morgana. This wasn't the drugs, right?

"By the way. . .what is this?" asked Yusuke, gesturing to Morgana.

"Huh? A cat," said Ryuji.

Yusuke's eyelid twitched.

"But it's. . .talking," Yusuke pointed out to the others, wondering about their nonchalance at this phenomena. Wouldn't all metaverse oddities be contained away from the real world? Yusuke reasoned.

Morgana's tail stood up.

"Your point?" said Morgana.

Ryuji sighed.

"You still don't geddit how weird you are, Morgana. . .anywaaay-" Ryuji got up from the booth, stretching his arms, "-I'm knockin' off for the night. I guess I'll see you guys at Shujin? We can arrange for a meet-up when you're feeling better, Yusuke," said Ryuji.

Shiori flashed her eyebrows. Morgana jumped into her schoolbag. The others except Ann and Ren made motion to leave.

Ann hesitated – trying to choose her words. To everyone's surprise including Ann's, Ren reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. It was the first time he had shown some form of physical affection for Ann in front of the others.

"I'm staying back here for a little longer with Ann. Shiori, could you get an Uber for Yusuke on your way out, please?" asked Ren.

"Sure. C'mon Yusuke. . ."

The others left, leaving Ann and Ren alone in the booth. Suddenly, Ann felt super-nervous. The last time she was alone with Ren, _things happened_. The kind of things which made her blood run hot. Here they were again, alone together, after midnight in Tokyo city. No parents or chaperon to stop them from doing anything SILLY.

 _I'm sixteen. I know what I'm doing_ , Ann assured herself with the sure-fire confidence any inexperienced soul would know about young love.

Unlike how Ann was feeling on the inside, Ren appeared to be in the mode of his signature Dark Hero Protagonist™ cool calm. Humming an indistinct tune, Ren fished a lemon mint candy from the basket and offered to Ann. She accepted, wondering what he was thinking, what he was going to say. Wait. What was she going to say? thought Ann.

The sugary lemon spiked sweet and tanginess on Ann's tongue. Ann wave-rolled the candy in her mouth, watching Ren unwrap his lolly. Her tongue stilled when Ren slipped the lemon mint into his mouth, bringing into focus the little indent scar Ann gave him by accident, when she got a little carried away. It was dot red at the corner of his lip.

"Does that. . .hurt?" asked Ann.

"Hmm? Oh. The cut. Nah. Not anymore," said Ren.

Ann turned on the booth seat, rotating her sylphlike hips in a golden ratio that would have made the Greek mathematician Pythagoras slap a congratulatory back-pat on Ren, saying "Mah man!"

"Can I. . .?" asked Ann.

Ren nodded.

Her fingers landed at his chin – a soft curving. They slid up, two lines on his lower lip. Ren closed his eyes. As gingerly as she could, Ann brushed her fingers to the corner of his lip. Ren stiffened but did not stop her.

"What about now?" she murmured.

"Almost, but not quite."

". . ."

"What are you thinking?" asked Ren.

" _Almost, but not quite_. It's such an apt way to describe how you feel about. . .us. The way I'm delicately prodding your lip. . .it's as if you're letting me hold your feelings," said Ann.

Ren opened his eyes. Ann gazed deeply into those grey irises, noting the subtle corona of silver flaring behind the eclipse of his pupils.

 _That silver wasn't there before. Did something happen to him while he was away from me?_ thought Ann.

A pause.

". . .I'm sorry," Ann said in a small voice.

Ren playfully bumped his shoulder against her. Ann tried not to show any indication that she felt goosebumps flesh across her chest from that little contact.

"Do you plan to apologise every time you give me a hickey?" he teased.

"I meant for everything that has happened – wait. . .What?!" exclaimed Ann.

Ren batted his eyes innocent-like.

"What?" said Ren.

"You're gonna let me give you hickeys?" Ann asked in the child-like hope of enquiring after Santa.

Ren's hand slid up hers - that which was plucking his lip. He pressed her palm against his cheek.

"You know. . .you're the kind of girl my mother warned me about," said Ren.

Ann pouted.

"Your mum doesn't like you having fun?" asked Ann.

Ren grinned. Then his expression became contemplative. Sliding into a little melancholy, Ren said:

"You can have whatever you want of me, Ann. I'm sorry too. I've been an impulsive fool. Us guys – we. . .well _me_. . .I suck at emotions, Ann. Understanding them. Expressing them. This time, I promise. . .I'll be better to you now. Better than anyone else."

It was a good thing she was sitting because Ann's knees went jelly weak. Her head felt light, but not the fainting sort. Ann released a pent-up breath she had no idea how long she was holding within.

A sniffled sounded between them. Blue glassed by tears of overwhelming emotions, threatened to burst open the waterworks.

"You have no idea how happy you just made me," she said snuffly.

Ren's eyes widened.

 _Wow. . .she's so pretty when she cries – wait. No! Where's the tissues?_ thought Ren.

Ren dabbed one of the unused serviettes at the corner of her eyes.

"Thanks. I'm going to be fine. . .it's like. . .I've always been that girl who cried way too easily," said Ann.

Ren did not want to leave Ann alone. Walking her to Shibuya Station then leaving her would be akin to leaving a cuddle of kittens mewling in a basket of rose petals - at the den of hungry wolves, whose dripping saliva at the fangs were images of the obscene. Going back to Leblanc tonight would be the cold-hearted thing to do.

Unless. . .

Ren's heartbeat picked up.

"Where do you live, Ann?"

* * *

Smoke twined ribbons from the burning wick of the citronella scented candles, luminescing at the bathtub's edge. Bluish bubbles and foam hills shifted above the water as Hifumi sank down further, basking in the bath-oil slicked hot water. She snuck her feet out the water, toes toying with the four faucets of Goro's fancy bath suite.

"Not going to join me?" Hifumi called out.

A turntable spun a vinyl record of rock jazz, the visceral complexity of melodies matching Goro's concentration. He sat at his study desk, analysing the new report Ellison gave him. After their rabbit-like fucking in the living room, the two of them moved here, not bothering with clothes.

"What was that, babe?" Goro said distractedly.

Hifumi sighed.

"Nothing."

Hifumi sat up, tilting her head back. Bath foam in oxidisation slid down her hickey scaped neck, down to the champagne-gleam of her breasts. Her dark areolas were slathered in foam, untouched, unattended to. Hifumi wished Goro would join her so she could be distracted. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind. But she couldn't.

Hifumi could not stop thinking about Ren. Especially with those fantasies she had while Goro was inside her. Innocently, unconsciously – Hifumi's hand slid to the inner of her thighs.

 _I wonder what he's doing right now_ , thought Hifumi.

* * *

Chat log during the train ride to Ginza:

_Ren: Hey _

_Ren: Could you text Sojiro that was I was over at your place, studying _

_Shiori: No problem _

_Shiori: So… _

_Shiori: A second Persona huh _

_Shiori: Mind telling me where you learnt that trick? _

_Ren: The Bible _

_Shiori: 凸(¬‿¬) _

_Ren: You should read it :) _

_Ren: Especially after seeing Ryuji's dick :) _

_Shiori: HAAA HAA. VERY FUNNY MOTHERFUCKER _

_Shiori: I got doubts _

_Ren: ? _

_Shiori: About this new power of yours _

_Ren: Huh _

_Ren: What's wrong with it? _

_Ren: You saw what happened _

_Ren: What I did to Nue _

_Ren: I'm stronger now _

_Shiori: Do you really believe that… _

_Ren: What do you mean? _

_Shiori: That chimera you killed today… _

_Shiori: The two of you are alike, you know? Two Personas now define who you are, Ren _

_Shiori: Two parts of yourself. Just think of that implication _

_Shiori: There's going to be more in the future, isn't there? _

_Ren: . . . _

_Shiori: What if something inside of you turns against yourself? _

_Shiori: Like what that snake did to Nue. His own tail killed him _

_Ren: I'm willing to bet our Personas have immunity against direct Psy spells _

_Shiori: Would they? _

_Shiori: It doesn't have to be a spell _

_Shiori: We're talking about manifestations of inner psyches here. Personalities of complex emotional…mental and whatever other obscure attribute that defines us _

_Shiori: You're playing with fire, dude _

_Ren: (;￢＿￢) _

_Ren: You're right _

_Ren: Let's see how hot this bonfire can get (￢з￢) _

#

 _Ann's home. 1:16 AM._

'Apartment' was a slightly weak word for Ann's home. Although sure - it was not strictly a penthouse; those opulent clichés with their rooftop swimming pools, a Porsche 911 parked next to the living room in compliments to a state-of-the-art A.I voice greeting its home owner, asking if they would like fire hearth warmed up in the hidden torture dungeon where the most insistent of Kamoshida x Shiho shippers were kept manacled and chained, prim and proper for torture. " _Oh would you like to listen to the Mozart playlist over their pathetic screams, sir? Or Britney Spears?_ " the A.I would ask. Nope. Ann's apartment was hardly that.

It was pretty spacey though. Ren could tell that much in the initial darkness.

The only lights that were on were the pendants which hung at the kitchen aisle, where there was a mini-greenhouse of plants and vine herbs hanging and growing. Did Ann use those fresh for cooking? Ren wondered. The beams of light drew a sheening ambience off the rosemary and thyme.

Past the kitchen, drew into a long living room with a white banana-shape designer sofa that could have sat eight or nine people. Floor-to-ceiling glass panoramically canvassed the view of Ginza's shopping boulevard district, its nightlife and shimmers reduced to blur and bokeh of a thousand light dots.

It was no doubt a nice living space. But Ren thought it would have to be lonely for one person to live here.

Ann did not say anything. She tugged at his hand (never letting go once since they left Big Bang) when he took off his shoes. They dropped their bags at the kitchen bar stools. As Ann lead him closer to the couch, Ren felt his shoulders lighten. Clinking and unchaining of emotional and mental weights fell off with each step past the shadowy walls, to the unknown yet comforting sanctuary.

The shadows and lines shifted.

Ren blinked, puffing out the delinquent strands of his hair away from his eyes. Ren felt Ann shift her hips beneath, allowing him to more comfortably rest his head on her laps. Fingers caressed through his hair, rubbing at his scalp. For a few minutes, it was just this. A kind of intimate, unspoken silence which was heavily layered with their feelings for each other and the craziness of their lives.

Ann cupped Ren by the cheeks. She leant down, kissing him on the brow.

All the tension in Ren's body left him. The scarring anger of the vicious violence with Nue in the earlier hours dissolved, leaving only the awareness of Ann's lips pressing against his brow. For the first time in a long while, everything felt so okay for Ren. Safe.

"You can rest here with me-" she whispered. She traced her finger along his jawline, "-I won't let anything happen to you here."

Ren believed her. He closed his weary eyes. Sleep arrived.

* * *

 **Yeah. It's finally gonna happen.**


	31. Soixante-Neuf

.

 **Author's Note: With no presumption for the readers' vernacular, I will include a list of words for those who aren't kinky enough to have a dictionary open while reading high-tension smut.**

 **-cantaloupe**  
 **-glabrous**  
 **-mons**  
 **-evolute**  
 **-pointillism**  
 **-velveteen**  
 **-smicket**  
 **-apoplectic/apoplexy**  
 **-gyrate**  
 **-corpus**  
 **-callipygian**

 **Words which have already been used in this story, like 'quim', 'velutinous', etcetera are not included above but used in this chapter. I partially didn't want to A/N this, since I only ever use words out of necessity for what ideally fits the prose and not scratch superficial garish marks in a crime scene where the murder weapon was likely a shotgun blast which used pages of the Encarta dictionary for pellets**. . **.but since the readers only ever get to read this story's milestones once for the first time, I'm including the list here. You've all waited this long. Take your time to comfortably know them all.**

 **Lastly, but most importantly, I hope you all remember the opening quote of** ** _Cyber-Violet Volition_** **.**

* * *

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

 _23.04.1996_

 _To do list:  
_

 _Groceries_

 _Daisuke's Birthday_

 _Study chapters 7 & 8!_

 _Submit vintage jacket designs to teacher_

OoOoO

 _Journal entry:_

 _Why am I writing in red?_

 _Several reasons._

 _1) My Sakura blue pen died :( Only pen I have left._

 _2) Too many couples are smooching in the dormitry. I hate that._

 _3) I am SO MAD AT HIM!_

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

* * *

 _7:02 AM._

 _Togo Residence._

It was a practised routine for Hifumi by now. Something, someone from Kosei's drama department taught her, saying:

"I won't ask who he is. Just don't trace this back to me if you get busted; all because you made the rookie mistake of using too much translucent powder."

Hifumi assured the theatre-geek she would follow his instructions down to the last word, lying that her reasons were mainly professional.

During the 5-minute wait for the MAC primer to settle on her neck, Hifumi decided that her reasons did extend beyond hiding these marks from her mother. It was also a professional thing to do too. After all, no pure shogi idol should be discovered as a person with _actual feelings and needs_ , she sassed to herself in sullen silence.

When the app timer went off, Hifumi double-checked the pictures she took of her neck. Her Kelly-green nail which scratched Goro's arse cheeks last night, delicately swiped at the phone screen on the dresser. Three angle shots confirmed the marks on her skin were all purplish red. Or reddish purple.

 _Repurl?_ thought Hifumi; she giggled to herself.

'Repurl' meant using the green colour corrector. She applied a film of the colour onto her make-up sponge then delicately pressed on the two hickeys at the front of her neck, taking care not to leave any untouched real estate Goro's teeth visited. Then came the concealer. The lacquer brush tickled at her neck, the bite marks losing their presence into a fadeaway. Dusting some translucent setting powder here and there, followed by a spritz of setting spray and-

"Checkmate," Hifumi murmured to herself.

Hifumi tilted her neck, admiring the results in the mirror. Not a single blemish on the shogi doll. Perfect!

X

From the doorstep, one would see a horizon of cityscape and painterly pinks of cherry blossoms crowning the ant line of cars.

Black shoes hopscotched on the footpath, the _click - clack_ punctuating each stone tile leading to the iron-wrought entrance gates of Hifumi's home. Hifumi paused at the gate, looking up at the clear sky. A rattle sounded in her bag, where she carried her shogi set.

Hifumi held out the 'keima' piece up to the azure sky. Her lips parted at the knight piece, wondering who she would christen this piece after. Maybe a famous hero?

There was Lancelot, Siegfried and Hua Mulan. Hifumi tilted the wooden piece against the morning sun, its edges catching heaven's halo glow.

 _None of them feel right_ , she decided.

Maybe a prince?

 _. . .how about Lady Murasaki's Genji?_ thought Hifumi.

It immediately felt right. Within herself, Hifumi's Persona resonated at the sentiment. Of course she would, Hifumi mused, putting away the keima.

After all, 'Tale of Genji' was about a Kyoto prince.

* * *

 _Classroom 2-D. Shujin Academy._

Kawakami was annoyed before she even started reading the roll sheet. She checked her wristwatch again. '8:35 AM'.

"Good grief," muttered Kawakami, trying to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes.

Most of the students of 2-D were whispering and glancing back at the two empty desks. If the rumour mills about Takamaki and Amamiya lazily spun gossip before, they were now in a high torque today with the suggestive evidence right before everyone's eyes.

 _I would expect tardiness from Amamiya. But Ann? This is the first time she's been late this year_ , thought Kawakami.

The homeroom teacher cleared her throat. The murmurs immediately died down.

"Taking the class roll now. . ." said Kawakami, trying to keep her voice light.

". . .Akao Miho," said Kawakami.

"Present," answered Miho.

"Amamiya Ren."

The silence had a kind of cheekiness to its characteristic. Despite being tired from last night's shift at Crossroads Bar, Kawakami managed the energy for a vein throb.

"Of course. Absent," she said with sardonicism, marking Ren's name with a red X.

Other names were listed off. 'Here' and 'Present' came around.

". . .Ogura Kojuro."

"Here," said Kojuro.

"Oshiro Shiori," said Kawakami.

No answer.

Kawakami raised her eyes. At the corner of the classroom, behind Ren's empty desk, Shiori was slumped against the window in an unabashed snooze. A mote of drool seeped from the corner of her mouth.

Kawakami cleared her throat.

"Oshiro Shiori," Kawakami repeated, louder this time.

A diplomatic student tossed his eraser at Shiori's head, bouncing the pygmy Pikachu off her tousled mane. Shiori bolted up-right with a start and shouted:

"Where's pudding?!"

Shiori trailed off, noticing everyone's stares were on her.

Shiori double checked to make sure this was not one of those dreams where she got caught getting her brains screwed out by that cute substitute teacher that showed up here last week. Shiori patted over herself, confirming that her clothes were on. No naked bachelor was in sight.

 _Bummer_ , thought Shiori.

"Had a good nap, Shiori-kun?" Kawakami asked - exasperate.

The whole class laughed. Shiori sheepishly nodded. For the sixth time this year, she vowed to kick her habit of bingeing Scorsese and porn on a school night.

"Where's Ren-kun? You two usually arrive together to Shujin. He's not here today," said Kawakami.

The implication of the two empty desks in front of Shiori told her enough.

"Oh! Umm. . ." Shiori began.

There was no way she could tell their homeroom teacher that Ren and Ann were probably playing hooky for the whole of today. Or that Shiori knew Ren was at Ann's home last night. Shiori wracked her sleep-deprived mind, for what she should say.

"Well?" said Kawakami.

"He told me he had the flu," blurted Shiori.

Kawakami raised an eyebrow. Back in her day, the cover stories were a lot more inventive than that.

"The flu, huh," said Kawakami.

Shiori offered a weak smile back.

"Would you happen to know about Ann-kun's absence too?" asked Kawakami.

Shiori shook her head.

The rest of the roster call was taken. Takamaki Ann was marked absent with Ren.

Later - in the staffroom, Kawakami considered calling Sakura-san to confirm if Shiori was telling her the truth. There was also the contact for Takamaki, a guardian who represented her parents while they were overseas. To Kawakami's understanding, that person did not live with Ann.

Background voices carried over from the corner of the staffroom.

"Yamauchi-sensei?"

"Kasumi? Ah yes – I see you have the transcripts I asked of you. . ."

Kawakami's hand lingered over her phone - thinking about it. Kawakami's maternal teacher instincts made her reluctant to follow protocol in this situation since she already had a strong inkling of what was going on with Ren and Ann. Yes, she had ears too, listening to what her students had to say about these two. Yes, Kawakami noticed Ren staring at Ann many times during homeroom. Kawakami knew teenagers, having taught them for three years now. Buoyant souls that were half-strangers to the world's cares and perplexities, topped off with a high concentration of metronomic hormones. Kawakami was not that old herself that she forgot what youthful indulgences were like first-hand.

There was also the fact that. . .

 _I failed to protect them from Kamoshida. As their teacher_ , thought Kawakami.

The guilt forced Kawakami into understanding that official procedures were not always in the students' best interests. After the volleyball scandal, that sobering lesson sunk into the gut of her stomach. These days, some of her co-workers (including herself) did not trust the principal after his odd reaction to the revelation of Kamoshida's crimes. Spotlighting a student like Ren Amamiya during this high-voltage time would be setting off a powder keg.

Kawakami's hand withdrew from her phone.

 _I'll chew them out next week instead. Just this once_ , she thought.

* * *

 _Hours earlier._

The air conditioner's cool and quiet hum whispered into Ren's cold ear. He stirred, eyes drawing slowly open to the curvature ceiling. For about a minute, Ren looked at the smooth whiteness, wondering where all the wooden beams went. Did Sojiro renovate the attic? his sleep-dimmed mind pondered. Also, why did Morgana feel so heavy?

Ren pressed his chin down to see what was there. His throat scratched a note of surprise. It was no black cat.

Curlicues of blonde started from his chest, the swirling ringlets and spirals splaying gold against tuxedo black. Leading up to Ann herself, where she was fast asleep – her face nestled against his crotch. The nub of her nose was pushed up quite. . .acutely against where Ren felt his dick was at.

Ren turned his head to the left and found that he was mirroring the way Ann was resting on him. He could smell her _Liberté Cacherel_ citrus spice perfume. As well as something muskier, something. . .feminine.

 _Oh_ , thought Ren.

He knew what that was.

Ann must have fallen asleep at some point in the night while he was resting on her lap. She probably did not want to wake him up by getting up, opting to sleep in this soixante-neuf arrangement (albeit without the fellatio).

Ann stirred. Ren stilled. Her face rubbed against his trousers, eliciting a saluting boner his dick was all too happy to oblige when being snuggled by a beautiful blonde girl. Ren blinked a kind of stupor, watching his bulge rise into a hardened tent. Oh crap. Of all the breakfasts Ren could have prepared for Ann after spending a night in her home; a bulging cock against her mouth was not exactly the daintiest of menus.

As if subconsciously reading Ren's mind, Ann's jaw mumble munched something imaginary then sighed back into stilling sleep - never opening her eyes once.

The hard-on remained.

Ren exhaled. He tried to contain this surging desire within him, a roaring dragon straining to snap free of its chastity shackles and let loose. There was something so _enticing_ in the moment to take Ann now. To rouse Ann from innocent dreams and ravage her until those bra straps were sliding down her shoulders, those puckish lips whimpering his name. . .

Ren mentally slapped the dragon.

 _I need to cool off. Find the washroom_ , thought Ren.

Inch-by-inch, Ren sidled and removed himself from Ann. His shoulders were tensed up, wary for any signs of her waking and himself – in case he lost whatever vestige of control he had over his loaded libido.

While extricating himself, gravity coaxed Ren's phone out of his pocket. The phone landed silently on the fluffy lounge rug - waking the BlackBerry's motion detector. The screensaver bloomed, showing the time: 4:44 AM. As well as two icons. One was a clock; his weekday alarm which was meant to go off at 6:10 AM. And a red flashing icon; 'Low Battery' with the subtitle '30 minutes charge remaining'.

Ren left the living room, not noticing the absence of his phone.

The hallways in Ann's apartment were not straight, but curved. A lot of the interior design tastefully echoed the apartment tower's elliptical shape. Ren trailed his fingers on the wall panels, feeling a padded woolly fabric instead of concrete. Stripe lights placed in intervals, glowing an ambience in the darkness. Ren felt like he was in a dream. This was all real, right? He really was at Ann's home right now. Surreal.

Ren passed a study room that contained an escritoire and a smörgåsbord beyond books; stratums of magazines, linen rolls, incomplete fabrics, a tailoring set and even a mannequin wearing nothing but a scarf as blue as a morpho butterfly.

Did Ann's parents use this room when they were here? Ren wondered.

Ren passed a few closed doors. He made a complete circuit through the turning corridor and found himself back at the entranceway leading to the kitchen and living room. Which meant one of the closed doors he passed had to be the washroom.

Ren backtracked to the corridor, stopping at the first door. He tentatively tried the knob. Locked. Then to the second. Also locked. There were two more doors, not counting the open study. When Ren opened the third, he found himself in the laundry room.

 _Not here_ , he thought.

The last door was unlocked. Upon flicking the light switch, he immediately knew by the mess that this was Ann's bedroom.

It was as if a wild party went down last night by skorts, skirts, dresses and many other invited guests of spring's fashion catalogue. Now they laid about in the simulacrum of alcohol's hangover slumber.

Ren briefly deliberated if it was okay to enter the bedroom of a girl who stuck her tongue in his mouth without asking. Eh. Why not.

 _It's just the washroom I need_ , thought Ren.

Ren stepped over a robin blue bra, more of the bedroom coming into view. The room's en suite bathroom was separated purely by glass and no solid walls. Where the tricorn black walls ended, the washroom granite started; a stunning palette of venous lines bleeding and splotching in indigo, peacock blues and blacks. The shower room was long, with a wooden bench against the walls. Ren was impressed to see the showerhead was not the traditional scope, but rather a rain-shower plate that could cover the breadth of two ponies, if running. The lavatory was separated at the far end of the washroom, L-bending to an enclosure that was moonlit by a glass prism on the ceiling.

 _One would have stars and sunshine for company on the thinking throne_ , thought Ren.

Ren slowly rotated on his heels, stepping over the couture shopping bags from Shibuya's underground mall. Small pieces of the larger puzzle that was Ann's personal life, slowly assembled together in Ren's mind.

At the corner was a vanity dresser with a three-way mirror setup and accessories. It looked like something that belonged to a Bolshoi ballerina's dressing room. Boxes, half-opened packages of limited edition sneakers and other high-end labels were piled in one corner, leading into a walk-in wardrobe. Ren guessed the merchandise was probably from the sponsors Ann earned from her modelling.

The waning moonshine slanted on his eyes. Ren looked up. The ceiling in Ann's bedroom was slanted with a skylight angled to the night sky. Ren initially mistook a passing by aeroplane to be a lone star; its navigation light winking in the distant darkness.

Ren's butt bumped against the bed in his back walking. Right. There was the bed itself – blankets half tidied with the fat eiderdown pillows. Ann seemed to have the preference of sleeping with three pillows. The bed was fairly big too. Almost reaching up to his waist and California king-sized. Its entirety was squarely illuminated by moonbeams from above.

By the end-table, Ren saw a red PS Vita docked in its wire charger, the crystal PS logo glowing orange. Next to the Vita was a letter addressed to Ann. Ren would not have spared it a second glance had his eyes not caught a name mentioned: _Shiho._

 _Dear Takamaki-san,_

 _Apologies for Serizawa-senpai not being the one responding to you this time. He is currently disposed of with the funerals for three of our residents who passed away this week. I'm his assistant, Okita._

 _To confirm your queries from the previous letter, your monthly cheque donations to the hospice have expeditiously helped us in the operational costs; caring for the elderly homeless. Senpai was initially hesitant to accept your financial aid (despite your guardian signing off those cheques on your behalf) given your minor status. For twelve years, he has been used to receiving this sort of help from businesses and not high schoolers. Your contributions were initially going to be rejected but his mind was changed when you said you were a dear friend of Suzui Shiho._

 _We all miss Shiho dearly at this hospice. Her weekend volunteer work here amounted to six hours a week, yet she made a lasting impression on many of the patrons here. Those with schizophrenia still expect her to show up, to provide the youthful company Japan's oldest living generation rarely gets these days. Words could not convey full depth for our sadness when her father told us what happened._

 _This charity could have only come from a big heart. Again, we thank you, Takamaki-san. This unsung gesture you're doing in your best friend's memory is touching. Please remember (as Serizawa-senpai cautioned) that someone as young as you is not obligated to keep sending money, if you prefer the surplus is better used on yourself. We don't know how fortune works for a sixteen-year-old model, but we hope this gentle reminder is kept in mind, for responsibility's sake. You've tremendously done a lot so far._

 _With no remorse for the palilogy, thank you. We hope this letter finds you well._

 _Signed,_

 _Okita Sakura_

 _Yamamoto Hospice Care_

Never again, Ren affirmed. Never again will he allow mercy to make him hesitate against the wicked. Even if it meant making the extreme choice of murder. Only one man was responsible for Shiho's death. Yet those that were not, those that cared, could not help but think about the what-ifs and if-onlys. It was not easy for anyone to move on from what happened - especially Ann, Ren reckoned.

The washroom had calendula cream, Q-tips and micellar water at its stone basin top. Ren guessed the calendula was probably a life hack for zits management, but he could not fathom what the micellar water would be for.

Ren took off his glasses, drawing back his inky curls.

The splashes singed a wet cool on his face. Droplets clung onto Ren's eyelashes when he stared into the mirror. Back in Kyoto, people would remark to Ren that he was looking more and more like his handsome father, as he grew out of his boyish looks and into adulthood. Those that knew Keinosuke for a long time, whispered to Ren about how his father had a personal reputation among "innocent" and naughty girls back in his university years.

It would have been easier to dismiss the comparison two years ago. Especially since Ren had his mother's darker eyes. Looking in the mirror now though. . .Ren could sort of see what they meant.

Ren did not like being compared to that man. Especially after everything that happened. Ren was convinced he was hardly like his father.

Not achieving the tranquillisation he hoped from the wash, Ren returned to the living room.

Ann was curled in onto herself, as if cold. Her luxuriant blonde curls strayed on her cheek, fingers curled in front of her nose with the acute energy of all things meek and pretty. Deep in slumber despite the couch not being an appropriately comfortable place to fall asleep.

 _All right, Ann. Let's get you to your bed_ , thought Ren.

Ann weighed willowy in his arms. Her ass pressed against his abs, soft cleft contours which imprinted vividity into his imagination. Ren carefully manoeuvred through the door frame, minding to not accidentally knock her head in his bridal-style lift.

Ren delicately laid Ann on the bed. He leaned forward, knees on the mattress, so he could easier tuck her under the blanket. Goosebumps went up Ren's arms when his knuckles brushed against the soft swells of her breasts.

Leaning over, Ren brushed the loose strands out of her eyes. Those eyelashes fluttered but did not open. His hand paused at her temple. Was this where he was supposed to leave? Ren thought with a twinge of reluctance.

Ann sighed in her sleep, rolling sideways. Ren startled. Her leg swung over him, tidal-waving Ren to lie down next to her. She threw her hands over Ren like he was a teddy. Ann's breathing settled back into sleep. Mumble munched again.

It would not have mattered if Ren dunked himself in the Arctic waters earlier on. His chest felt something funny, a kind of thawing and smouldering heat going supernova, slashing up a fiery blush on his cheeks. Ren's mouth parted, his inhalations for air taking an audible cue. A pirouetting curl fell across his eye. Ren puffed it away.

His heartbeat RPM'ed like the Jaguar floored. Ren tried to move away. He found himself stuck. Well – not exactly stuck but rather, he would not be able to remove himself without waking Ann up. Every cell in his body was begging Ren to give in. Just give in. Be with her. You deserve this special girl, despite everything that has happened. Yes, you Ren. You're head over heels for her and there's no power on this Earth that can undo your downfall.

 _I'm so glad she's not awake_ , thought Ren.

Ren's emotions were all over the place now. Control was slipping. . .

The stiffness in his shoulders unknotted.

Time slowed. Ann looked so precious in her dreaming. . .

Ren watched her, the clockwork gears in his heart rotating, turning its ticking hand between the hours of jamais vu and delirious outpouring love. This was real, Ren thought. He was someone that mattered so much to her.

One year ago, Ren would have never imagined someone like Ann Takamaki being in his life, under these circumstances. This girl's laughs, sadness, tears and teases. . .all her quirks and curves, her anger, kisses and love which tattooed secrets in his heart. Ann. Here she was, nestled against Ren like the rest of the world didn't matter.

Ren's heart felt at home with Ann, but his mind did not understand.

 _. . .Why did I meet you?_ Ren wondered.

Contemplation deepened Ren's dizzy daze. Deepening further into somnolence. His eyelids curtained heavy. Finally. . .Ren fell asleep with Ann.

Ten minutes later, clouds shifted in the sky, melting the lancer sunbeams dappling on the bed. The 5% battery for Ren's phone prompted auto-shutdown.

More than two hours later, an overcast cloud eclipsed the bedroom's day in grey. The looping alarm from Ann's phone stopped at its eleventh interval. No one heard the cheeping from the kitchen, being muffled between the slips of Ann's varsity hoodie, among the books packed in her school bag.

The world outside continued spinning on its hysterical axis. Ann and Ren slept on, undisturbed, unburdened and unconditionally – falling in love.

* * *

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

 _01.05.1996_

 _It's Wednesday. I'm lying on my bed, feeling empty. Looking outside the window, I see leaves fall and dance from the tree. It's funny. The tree knows better than me. It knows when to let go._

 _What luck. To fall in love with an asshole. I left roses in his heart and he let them wilt and die. Even though he loves me. I know. A part of him always will. What about me?_

 _I wish it was February again. I was happy. In his arms. I wish I couldn't care. But now I'm the joke of the year._

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

* * *

A small part of Ann knew she was very late for school when she woke up. A big part of her did not care when she huddled closer to the person sleeping next to her. Ann knew without opening her eyes – that she had been carried to her bed. Lavender's fragrance brimmed from the bedsheets she washed two days ago. By the overscent of coffee, Ann also knew the reverberating heartbeat against her ear belonged to Ren.

Ann sighed contentedly against Ren's chest. The body warmth Ren radiated felt. . .nice. Wanting to ensconce herself completely over Ren, Ann dragged her hips over.

Ann shuddered against Ren; an echo of the last time she was pressed this close to Ren. Although much of Ren's nakedness was terra incognita (for now) to Ann, her hands found cuppings of the familiar contours she vividly remembered fondling when she kissed Ren yesterday. Her fingers flutterflied at Ren's neck. Ann's tummy rubbed against him. The friction felt delicious.

Before Ann could stop herself, she undulated her hips against his groin. Her mons pressed fleshy against the (too many) layers of clothing between them. Ann cried out then muffled her pule – abashed.

She held back.

Ann watched for signs of Ren stirring (where were his glasses?). Ren did not move an inch. His eyes remained closed. Was he still asleep. . .?

She pouted. Ann could tell Ren was pretending for her sake, so she would not be embarrassed.

"I know you're awake, you know? Your breathing has changed," said Ann.

Ren cracked open an eye.

"Hmph. I knew it," said Ann.

"Morning," said Ren.

Ann's expression softened. She cupped at Ren's cheek, feeling the peppering graze along his jawline.

"Morning to you too," said Ann.

Ren noticed daylight's brightness.

"We're late for school, aren't we?" said Ren.

". . .Yeah. We are," said Ann, wishing she had the audacity to lie.

"Do you want me to leave?" asked Ren.

"No-" Ann aligned her face up to his. Those grey eyes widened at her, "-I want you to stay," Ann said quietly.

". . ."

"Please?"

Each vowel articulation of 'Please' flirted Ann's whispering lips against the bridge of Ren's nose. That gave him an idea.

"Ask me again. Speak lower this time," said Ren

Ann knew he was not talking about volume.

"Please Ren?" She was at the cleft of his lip.

"Lower."

An intake gasp drew through Ann's teeth. She felt Ren's hands slide at the sides of her thighs, pressing – palming.

"Ren," Ann breathed – it was almost a purr. Ann was over his lips now.

His palms sailed up and anchored at her waistline. Ren's fingertips dipped, teasing to dive into her skirt's hemline.

"Yes Ann?"

He sounded amused. So mean!

Ann felt the excited guppies in her tummy. She swallowed. Her roseate lips were so close to his now, separated by distances no linen sheet could slip in-between. Ann made sure to speak slowly:

"I. . .want you to stay here. . .With me. . ." Ever gently, Ann pecked a kiss on his lips, ". . .please."

A spin. Ann was pushed against her back, on her bed. Feet tangled on the white sheets, toes curling in. Ren leaned over her, his hands clenching on the fabric. Tension pulled ripples on the linen and inside them both.

"You ask very nicely," said Ren.

Pink cheeks and thunder heartbeats. Ann tried to keep up with him.

"N-ni-nice girls get rewarded, you know?" said Ann.

Smoulders in grey. Those smoky eyes swirled lust's embers when it registered what Ann was asking of him.

Ren pinned Ann's hands above her, butterfly fluttering against the headboard. Locked into submission. Not wanting to leave room for Ren hesitating, Ann nocked her shoulders back, swelling her busty chest in magnification.

Ren's eyes narrowed. He knew what she was doing. Ren tightened his grip on her wrists. Ann bit her lip, fierce and determined.

In a single fluid motion, Ren's hips took to grinding on her. A mewl tore through Ann's lips. On reflex, her hands tried to move to muffle her mouth, but they stayed pinioned above her. Ann's audience was given the pleasure of hearing her pule unadulterated, uncompressed – nothing to hide. The twin blooms of carmine blushes, the writhing and raw sounds. All of it, exposed to Ren.

Ann's chest heaved. The way Ren used his hips just now. . .it betrayed the mature depth of what he was capable of with his body. It was like an unspoken promise to her.

"Do you understand what you're asking for, Ann?" asked Ren.

From Ann's view, the skylight traced Ren's dark mess of curlicues in an ephemeral halo. Contrast. Pointillism light shifted as spectral dust floats spun towards the ceiling. The shadows between Ren and Ann darkled into something deeper. . .a desire that could not claim to be innocent or gentle. And they both knew it.

 _Is he testing me? Or does he think I won't challenge him for domination in bed?_ thought Ann.

A rising giddiness joggled in Ann. She did want to be dominated by Ren. The emotional cliff dive in a free-fall of trust. To give in fully, into submission, losing herself in the pure physicality and ecstasy of being at Ren's mercy. At the same time, Ann wanted to toy with Ren a little. Paw at the feels and horny. Juggle his yarn ball. Unbalance him. Make him and his dick question the meaning of life and pussy. It was a second-nature Ann did not know she had until now.

Could she really flummox him? Ren did have good cause for that confidence, Ann conceded. What was noumenon to Ann, was first-hand experience for Ren. A trickle thought tendrilled at the back of her mind. What kind of girls from Kyoto did Ren. . .?

The scar on his lip fell into focus. The smidge thought was rinsed away by her smugness. Whoever they were, whatever they did, none of them were here like Ann was. Ren was hers now and she intended to fan the flames until he was completely consumed by her.

"I doubt you understand what I'm talking about," Ann shot back.

The bluff on her lips felt like that weird lime lip gloss she tried the other day. Fake and limey.

"Hm? I like to think I know what I'm doing," said Ren.

" _Oooh_. Do you?" Ann cooed – her girlish mirth was on.

His eyebrow arched.

"You're scared of me," said Ann.

"And what am I supposed to be scared of exactly, Miss Takamaki?" said Ren.

"Me being naked."

There was a pregnant pause. Pregnant with the profundity of the statement.

Ren's head shifted back. It was only for a fraction of moment, but Ann caught the titillation on his face. Then composure twanged back like a bow, all the clefts of this gorgeous boy's face set impassive.

"Why would that scare me?" said Ren.

"You haven't taken my clothes off. You must be scared - hee."

"I'm not."

"Prove it."

". . ."

Ren released her arms. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, resting shins pyramiding his thighs over Ann's hips. Ren took inventory. Shujin blouse, skirt, scarlet tights, bra and panties (despite Ann's bold attitude, Ren was sure she was not the type to go commando. . .right?).

 _Ha_ , he thought, fingers latching at his collar button.

The tuxedo jacket flung onto the floor; a gentleman's wardrobe joining spring's catalogue.

Ren leaned forward, the askew collar of his white shirt open, V-dipping into his chest. Ren rested his palms on Ann's tummy, not breaking eye contact with her. An understanding passed between them. This was a point of no return.

A balletic wavelet electrified through Ann's spine, pulsing her body into a state of heightened awareness of every sensation that was happening. The warmth in her cheeks. The dampness and heat arising between her legs. The stretch and press of every crisp fabric sheet against her skin. The gliding pressuring of Ren's hands moving up her body.

Ren took his time. His thumbs circled – starting from her navel then slowly V-ing up. Circuits and presses. Elaborately dragging his hands in a straight massage, so that Ann's imagination was anticipating the destination of each thumb.

Ann's eyes widened.

"I. . .ahhh. . .!"

Onto her breasts, the cupping curve of his hands widening out as he grasped more of her.

 _She's. . .slightly bigger than I expected_ , thought Ren.

Ren's fingers drew in, dimpling the mounds. Ann closed her eyes. Through the bra and blouse, she could feel the thumb press against her nipples. Silver dollars rolled and teased. Tiny tremors and flesh quakes quivered beneath her clothes.

While all this was happening, Ren observed Ann reacting to his changing tempos and where he was eliciting the moans and lip-bites. Every. Single. Detail ( _The pulse on her left temple beats larger than her right,_ Ren noted). Earlier on, Ren caught her reaction anticipation of where his thumbs were going. Good.

For Ren, there was more to this than this immense pent-up relieving of sexual tension that had been building between them. All those late nights when neither could fall asleep, thinking of the other, wondering what they felt like, exploring. . .along with the aggression, jealousy and kissing. This was more than just a mindless release. He intended to pay attention to Ann, blueprinting her weak spots and drawing patterns. You chased beauty to its lair by stimulating her imagination and being attentive. That was Ren's amorist creed. Everything else fell naturally.

"I want you to kiss me," breathed Ann.

Ren leaned in for the kiss. Ann raised her head, mouth parting needy.

 _Now_ , he thought.

Like the _shick_ of a matchstick striking spark, Ren undulated his groin against hers, lighting the flame. Ann cried out, throwing her head back.

Ren's lips found Ann's mouth, taking her mewls captive. Her buttons snipped off. One. Two. Fingers deft at her pigtail's tie. Three. Four. Both twin tails gone. Platinum ringlets sprang free, crescent mooning along Ann's cheeks.

Ren almost lost track of which button he was up to when Ann widened their kiss. She was relentless. A warning growl scratched at Ren's throat, but Ann did not care and relished at mixing wetness into alchemies of dizzy lust and pheromones.

Holy fuck, he thought – feeling a touch of lightheadedness. So much tongue and saliva. . .and more tongue. Wet sounds and licks. Ann turned Ren's head, fingers furrowing through his hair. He swirled, she hummed. Ann ran her teeth on his upper lip, hands caressing the back of Ren's neck. Ann was intoxicating him. Ren lost himself in the moment.

 _. . .where. . .?_ he thought.

The jolting chills coursing down Ren's spine made him self-aware. Ren drew in a deep breath. Lucidity partially returned. Mouth to mouth, Ann felt swollen against his bruised lips.

All the buttons came free. Ann's blouse unfolded, revealing sweat sheened skin around a pink demi bra.

Ann stilled for a moment in their kiss. Her hands twined around Ren's neck, holding between his shoulder blades. They paused there. 'Is this okay?'

Ren kissed her back, not removing her hands. Ann's hands slowly slid down his back, fisting at the cotton fabric. She yanked Ren's shirt, pulling it up then danced her fingers along the bare skin. Ann gasped in his mouth. There were dimples she could distinctly feel out, on Ren's lower back. That was _so hot_.

Ann's hands slipped into the back of his pants, wiggling beneath his boxers. Her fingers squeezed and kneaded Ren's ass cheeks, nails imprinting little red half-moons around the clefts. His buttocks curved high, muscles resisting pert against Ann's squeezes.

Ren felt his pants and boxers tugged down from behind – warmed by the sensation of the sun kissing his derriere. The kneading resumed.

Ann pulled Ren closer to her. The bulge of his cock pressed against her, separated by a loosening skirt and wet panties. Sweat ran a rivulet down Ren's jawline, dripping onto Ann's clavicle. The droplet continued, between the gooseflesh of her boobs.

Ann broke off the kiss to say, "You have a nice bum."

Was that the right thing to say? Ann wondered. Or was she supposed to say some scripted stuff everyone follows from a euphemistic, meet - sex - marriage paperback romance?

Ren liked the compliment.

"Thanks."

Ann giggled. Maybe just being herself was going to work out, all the way.

"Have I made my point?" asked Ren.

"I think I'm going to need morrrrr-re convincing. Also-" Ann fingered at the front-clasp between the cups of her demi bra, "-I'm not yet naked."

Dark trousers splayed on the hardwood floor. Followed by a skirt and tights. Then a demi bra.

Ren's eyes went wide. The topless view of Ann burned laser eroticism through Ren's retinas, setting off New Year's Eve fireworks in his apoplectic brain. Excited respiration heaved Ann's ribcage and tits, contrasted by the voluminous spread of blonde curls caped beneath her. Her nipples were roseate with nubs that stuck out, pointedly engorged from arousal.

"You're so lovely in your element, Ann," said Ren.

Sprig tears dampened Ann's eyelashes. It wasn't from shame, but the sheer emotion of baring herself like this and receiving a sincere reaction. From the time Ann started growing into a woman; all the childish teases she had to endure since the seventh grade, the jealousy, the predators, the shaming for chastity, her struggle to come into terms with the world's noise banshee screaming on her femininity until finally, Ann arrived at her resolution of self-acceptance, when she awoke Carmen.

The way Ren was gazing down at her like she was _the best damn thing_. . .it assured Ann that she was right to not be guilty for who she was. Ann was beautiful and she deserved to feel this way. Ren's honest adulation affirmed this.

Ann cupped her tits, the cataloupean mounds feeling overheated against her palms. Ann was well-rehearsed with holding them like this. All those endless nights Ann spent on this bed, rubbing herself and thinking about Ren – feeling unfulfilled that he was not there. Now the real deal was right in front of Ann. God. She was almost trembling.

"It almost aches that you're not touching them. Get in here," Ann whispered.

Ren dipped in, prying her hands away. His lips brushed against her left nipple. Ann shuddered. Ren kissed around her areola then took the nipple in his mouth. Ann's back arched, eyes closed as she pressed Ren's head to her chest. Gasps startled when he swirled his tongue around her nipple. Ann crescendoed into an extended wail when Ren drew out a long suckle. She was loud. Ren loved it.

At her right nipple, Ren's forefinger played a mini-violin with his thumb, rolling the highly sensitised nub. Ann bucked against Ren, writhing in an involuntary rhythm. On instinct, Ann's legs widened. Her white cotton panties were soaked with sweat and quim, pressing against her mons like wet tissue. This shadowed the profile of her pussy lips. Beneath Ann's crotch, a darkling patch pooled.

Ren took his sweet time. It went without saying that Ann had _fantastic_ tits. Heck, there were probably Sumerian caves with ancient paintings that religiously illustrated the legends of powerful kings, messianic prophecies and Ann's bosom. Every throaty scratch and moan, punctuated the alacritous loving Ren was giving them.

Ren switched to the other breast. His tongue played with Ann's nub; rolling it underside and twiddling it against Ren's upper lip. Ren broke off the suckling and blew air onto the puffy nipple. Ann gasped. Polka dot kisses started from her nipple, printing about her boob.

"That feels so _good_ ," murmured Ann, accented with a touch of fainting.

Ren continued the kisses. Not rushing. Steady. He kissed an evolute pattern, spiral arcing out of Ann's boob, towards her clavicle. Ren kissed into the hollow of her neck. A thrilling jolt vibrated. Ann arched her neck, eyes clenched shut. Sizzling trails built up a flush of creeping pink. Her face felt hot. Another moan. Ren was behind her ear. A gentle nibble at her lobe.

They were kissing again. This time, Ann was defeated. Ren claimed her mouth with the apex domineering. His tongue poured into her. Tease flicking until Ann was gasping for sips of air in Ren's mouth. Hands moved around her. Ann's sense of bodily awareness spaced out. Dew moisture and heat. Kisses and clenches.

Ren was everywhere, caressing and waking up erogenous zones Ann did not know she had. Making her feel like a woman in ways she never dreamed of. Filmic moistures of sweat coated a fresh layer over Ann – the blue vein lines on her left breast shined almost like wet ink. A singularity point sine waved in her awareness. The dripping wetness and tension between her legs.

Ren cupped both of Ann's breasts, burying his face in her plump cleavage - all velutinous and quivering. It was like sticking his head in a furnace. Ren inhaled, smelling sweat and her damp arousal.

Ren's tongue laved at the underside of Ann's right breast. He swirled into an inner spiral, teasing towards Ann's nipple. A spark of anticipation. Ann's nipples were almost painfully hard now. Ren's mouth closed around her nipple and jostled.

The breath died in Ann's lungs. She cried out Ren's name, only for it to come out in a distended sobbing moan, raw with libidinous desire that knew nothing else.

"Re-Ren! Ren!"

 _I don't mind getting used to this_ , Ren thought, satisfied.

The tenderness of her nipple in between Ren's lips pervaded his awareness. Ren closed his eyes, savouring Ann's taste. He switched to Ann's left tit. Ren repeated the concentric swirl, only slower this time. Ann's body was racing ahead. Ren's hands dropped to Ann's waistline, fingers hooking at her panties. When his tongue neared her tit's peak, Ann's imagination weaved for the second crest of anticipation.

It wasn't a tender lick this time.

Ren nipped at the nipple. The bite lanced a jolting judder of nerve-singeing fire. Ann hitched in immediacy, her back arching high. Ren's fingers readied at her panties. Ann's hips buck-lifted as the lancer echoed.

In an easeful motion, Ren slid off Ann's drenched smicket. Droplets of quim sequined on Ren's fingers – leaving them sticky with shimmery strings between. Ren threw away the panties, eyes drawing to Ann's nether.

Ren's breath caught.

 _Ann's almost an innie_ , Ren thought.

Wet slicks sheened her puffy mons. Ann's pussy was glabrous. Roseate lips shied out beneath her clitoris's hood, unsplit and dripping. Between the folds of her mons and thighs, sweat intermixed with splayed quim, dribbling – an inviting image for obscene oral action.

Ren swallowed. He cupped at his cock, the girthy throb pulsing inside his dark boxers. His desire had swelled his cockhead out, resting against his thigh – dripping precum.

Ren weaved between Ann's legs. He slid two digits into her spongy mass. They stopped about three inches in, meeting firmer resistance. At her clitoris, Ren's lips brushed. Easy now. She's tender here. Ren's tongue lapped then swirled figure 8s.

A pop went off in Ann's body. Desire drove Ann at 200 miles-per-oh-my-goodness and crashed her crotch into Ren's jaw. More and more. Pussy juices tasted and odorised all around Ren. His fingers slid in and out, webbing quim. _Plops_ and moans all around.

Ren kept up a steady rhythm until his ears picked out the way Ann was breathing. Faint. Shallow. She had been like this for minutes now – not saying anything. Instinctive caution made Ren check on Ann. Was she doing okay?

Ann's awareness was titillated like she was about to faint, cresting in this ecstasy filled cloud. Her entire body was floating in billows of pleasure and Ann did not know where it was going to take her. She vaguely heard her name spoken. Among other sounds lost in the haze. A staccato of words dimly registered through the mist. 'Don't forget to breath'. Ann didn't understand that. But she felt like something was missing. . .

 _Oh you reckless girl. I did try to warn you_ , thought Ren.

This was a good thing anyway. Ren recognised the signs. Ann was plateauing at the cusp of a body-avalanching orgasm. Ren decided that despite this, Ann's daring and kitty-kat-wants-to-play attitude to sex made her better than half the girls out there who were more experienced.

A wicked thought came to his bad boy mind. Maybe he could initiate orgasm denials of teases and cooldowns until she was pleading and crying, begging Ren to let her cum?

Ren snapped out of his diabolical plans of bedroom domination, noticing Ann was trying to say something to him.

"Ann?" said Ren.

". . .I want you inside me," she whimpered.

Ann barely managed the articulation in her current state. If Ann was sober, the neediness would have sounded pathetic to her ears. But she wanted it so bad.

"Protection-"

"I have ella. Morning after pills," said Ann, handing over the nuclear launch codes.

Black boxers landed atop the pink demi bra.

Ren raised her up; Ann's unbridled blonde curls caught in the sunlight, falling like heaven's firefall glows. She sat snugly on Ren's laps, those peachy cheeks nicely cupping against Ren's shaved balls. Ann's legs wrapped like a pretzel around Ren's waist. The motion pushed her hips closer to his, sandwiching Ren's mast stiff cock between their tummies.

Ann's tits flattened against Ren's chest when she leaned in for the kiss. They went gentler this time, cherishing the intimacy of their naked bodies entwined around the other. Ann's clit rubbed against the corpus underbelly of Ren's cock, lathering his desire in her pussy juices. Damp heat and desire steamed between cock and pussy, aching for each other. Ren grasped handfuls of her callipygian ass, taking his turn for squeezing Ann's fullness. Long fingers dimpled into that boneless softness before padding at the taut muscles.

Ren grunted in their kiss. Ann's cheeks were unintentionally massaged his balls whenever she clenched up from the napalm-tingling nerves being worked up in her derriere. Fuuuuck.

A damp click; their lips parted, eyes closed, breath hot on each other in gasps. Ann's velveteen pink tongue cat-cream licked at Ren's nose. She dragged her teeth across Ren's cheek and folded her lips over his earlobe – mirroring what Ren did to her earlier. Fingers clasped at Ren's thick column. Ann whispered into his ear, "I really like your cock-" a small squeeze, "-but I'm going to love it more when it's inside me."

Ren glanced down.

The titanic head of his cock pressed into Ann's entrance, pushing his foreskin back. Ann's mouth formed an 'O', her pussy lips splitting in imitation. Her eyes clenched shut. Ren moaned, feeling the acute compression shape onto him outwards - then iron-banding in around the dimple of his cockhead.

". . . fuck me," Ann swore in a whisper.

Ann's breasts heaved. It wasn't painful. But. . .no matter how hard she breathed, it almost felt like her lungs could not keep up with the air supply of stretching out.

"Take it slow, Ann-" he kissed her between the wet brows, "-you're doing great so far," said Ren.

Ann imperceptibly nodded, eyes still closed. Exhalation whistled on Ren's collarbone. Ann swallowed, slowly lowering herself. Pause. A bit lower. Pause. The plunge felt endless. Ann whimpered, expanding further when she was sheathed halfway in, at the thickest part of Ren's girth. _Fuck_. All her ridges inside clasped. Ann pushed on. Ren's cock sunk further inside her. . . _deeper_ and finally. . .deepest. Ren was hilted inside her all the way.

The fullness of Ren overwhelmed Ann. She threw her head back, back arching. Ann's chest thrust upwards, tits joggling in the rise. Ren caught her with one arm, powerfully supporting her at her shoulder blades. The other cradled at her spine's base. Ren bowed forward, kissing at her chest.

"Ahhh!"

Being inside Ann. . .it felt like his dick was floating in a lust's buttercream of formless ecstasy yet at the same time. . .Ann's pussy clenched and curved around every subtle cleft of his cock. They were a perfect fit.

Ren gyrated against Ann, the frictional rubbing of their groins feeling delicious. The light-headedness immediately returned in Ann.

"That feels so good," sobbed Ann.

Ann's pussy lips bulged out when Ren nocked his hips back in one sizzling stroke. He made eye-contact with Ann. Ann's breath hitched, realising what was coming. The surf wave's shadow crested over Ann. The world stilled for this moment.

Ren's hips gave one powerful lunge forward. Sensation seared deep.

That was the tipping point. After all the build-up, all the pent-up sexual tension and desires, Ann _came_. Light bulbs blew past their voltage limits, bursting colours behind her eyelids. Waves of rolling pleasure short-circuited through Ann, sending her body into a writhing frenzy. Ann's hips rocked on Ren's dick in a broken rhythm. Her tits quaked, bouncing delightedly with the motion. Her ears vaguely registered someone screaming. The scream was loud, shrill and hoarse. Ann realised it was tearing out of her own mouth. She couldn't care. Toes curled in and nails scratched red lines. Her pussy spurted quim, drenching Ren's thighs and the bed.

Ann's lightning orgasm had little reprieve to wind down. Ren was already fucking her. Ren clinched Ann close to him, basking in his masculine sweat overscenting her cum. Long thrusts into sliding curves that pumped into the dribbling noose of her pussy. Ann could only drape her limbs around him. She yelped at each stroke. Pleasure spiked into Ann, pooling a melting churn in her belly's core.

At each stroke, Ren's penetration sent a bolt up her spine. The concentration grew stronger. Ann cried out. Then she was muffled. Ren's lips crushed hers. Kissed her. And kissed her more. Ren's arms protectively encapsulated Ann as he lowered her back onto the bed. Her sweat-damp back met the quim-soaked sheets. Thrust into thrust. Liquid ecstasy took form into bright-burn intensity in her loins.

Ann's spine bowed, hips thrusting back at Ren of her own volition. Ann completely surrendered to the moment. Delirious pleasure so intense, so raw, it almost felt like pain. Searing through like hellfire in her loins.

Primal instinct spurred them into perfect sync. Fucking. Gasping. Clutching at the other. Inky curls against platinum. Glassy blues hues and smoked greys. Changing colours, sighs and calling each other's names. Ann and Ren were lost in each other.

Ann came again. It was different from her first. A shorter-fused moment that still left her lucid enough to feel Ren bulge inside of her. His cum whipped splatters of pearls and mousse, swelled and gushed out in thick spurts. Sticky tendrils of white, spilled out of Ann's pussy, trailing along her thighs. Rivulets of cum stained the sheets, oozing olfactive scents of pure sex.

Comfortable weight pressed on Ann. Ren panted, eyes hidden away against the sheets. What a release, after being blue-balled for months. . .

His dick was still inside Ann, her pussy lips snugly wrapped around him. Ren was half-erect, ready to go for more rounds. But he decided against it, knowing Ann was going to have a helluva time the next she woke up – feeling sore everywhere. Would she be able to walk?

Ren turned his head and lazily kissed Ann on the neck. Despite her hair being mussed up as if windswept, Ann was glowing. She looked like a goddess, so beautiful, so untamed and exotic. Those pretty eyes were half-lidded, blue pupils heavily dilated. A hint of a smile dancing at the corner of Ann's lips.

Ren reached out for the blanket and threw it over them. They cuddled close against each other, leg thrown over hips, chest rising, heartbeat listening. . .Ren tightened his grasp around her waist. Their eyes were closed, cherishing the warmth and security inside their little cocoon.

Ren was the first to speak. Warm air tickled at Ann's neck.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

His voice sounded sleepy. That lazy swagger steeped in casual sexiness. Ann almost happy-hummed over that.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

Ann kissed at Ren's face, half-blinded by darkness's cover. She pashed his close eye, tasting salt.

"Thank you," she said.

That made Ren open his eyes.

"You don't need to thank me, Ann."

"You sure?"

"I'm your boyfriend. You're entitled to my dick, my heart. . .and many other things."

Ann gasped.

 _Boyfriend_.

"Okay," affirmed Ann. She laughed.

 _Then I'm. . ._

"I'm never letting you go," Ann fiercely declared.

 _. . .his girlfriend._

A small kiss.

"Nothing will take me away from you," Ren assured her.

Her finger tapped at his nose.

"You know, you act all cool and mean in the metaverse as Joker but seeing you like this. . .you're really a fuzzy lump of love and feels, aren't you?" said Ann.

". . .does that make me seem fragile to you?" asked Ren.

Ann thought about it.

"No. . .you have a deeply sensitive side. And you feel things so deeply. . .but that doesn't mean you cannot contain them. I've seen you handle yourself when others aren't watching. It's what makes you strong, Ren. Even if. . ."

Ann hesitated.

"Even if?"

Ann hugged Ren tightly. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the basso drum of his heartbeat.

"Even if. . .I sense this inner darkness and pain inside of you. I still think you're strong. You need to withdraw inwards at times so that. . .so that you can be real with yourself. That's your way of taking care of yourself, isn't it? It's how you coped when your grandmother died. She mattered a lot to you. It's also how you made it this far with your probation," said Ann.

". . ."

"No wonder you're our team leader. You have this aura that makes us outcasts feel like we can all depend on you," said Ann.

"Is that why you like me?"

Ann brightened.

"Maybe? Hehe. Who knows. I guess it's a bonus that you happen to be-" Ann ran her finger down to Ren's prick, "-hot stuff."

"Oh yeah, you said you like spicy burgers," said Ren.

Ann giggled.

"Besides. . ." Ann's voice became quieter, ". . .you've ruined me. Spoilt me. I can't see myself- . . .!"

Ann sat up, throwing open the blanket. She looked startled, fingertips touched at her mouth: _Oh my god_.

"Wait! Wait! Hold on just a minute!" exclaimed Ann.

"Huh?"

"Ohhhh craaaap!"

"What?" asked Ren.

"Your criminal conviction. . .you didn't kill anyone right?! Cuz I don't want to tell my parents, 'Oh hey, this is my boyfriend. I had sex with a serial killer, by the way. . ."

"Oh. . .That," said Ren.

He chuckled.

"It's not funny, Ren! I want them to like you! I'm going to be so mad if you're a sexy psychopath!"

"Pfft. The only reason you'd be mad is because you would still want more of me, despite that," said Ren.

"Stop being cocky and answer the question!"

Ren's face immediately grew serious.

"There is something you should know about me, Ann," Ren said, grim.

Ann's mouth went dry.

"It's bad, isn't it?" she said in a small voice.

Ren hesitated.

"I didn't kill anyone but. . ." he trailed off, averting his woeful eyes.

"But? But?!"

"But I. . ."

"Spill it!"

"I have a mole on my left buttock," Ren deadpanned.

Ann playfully smacked him and found on his lips upon hers.

X

Hours later, Ren was in the elevator, on his way out the apartment tower. The chat screen on his battery lethargic phone read:

_Ren: Sorry to leave while you were sleeping _

_Ren: (you're really cute in your sleep btw) _

_Ren: My guardian expecting me to help him receive the deliveries for the café this evening _

_Ren: It's been a fortnightly thing. I can't skip on this one cuz the old guy needs help with the heavier crates _

_Ren: There's also the matter of getting my car… _

_Ren: I promise I'll be back later tonight _

_Ren: …if you don't have plans, I mean.. _

_Ren: We can have a night out. Or in. To ourselves. _

_Ren: Let me know, ok? :-) _

* * *

Orange carvings layered the afternoon sky in Roppongi Hills. The occasional pedestrian walked by Ren, taking note of his juvenile dishevelled state of dressing and the absence of shoes. Ren had worn his crinkled tux-set in a hurry, opting to leave his jacket behind. When he searched for his oxfords, they eluded to be found. Running on slim time, Ren decided to leave without them.

The reactions he got were a variety of curious stares, frights and suspicious squints. No changes from the norm, Ren thought with a shrug. Sure, his socks were ruined. But at least he had Ann.

Ren clicked the unlock button. The silver coupé chirped.

And his Jaguar F-Type.

The car was devoid of any signs of being disturbed. No parking ticket. No vandalising scratches. Although. . .Ren mused. There was an almost personified quality to the car's front grille and lights, as if it expressed an earnest face - upset at Ren for abandoning her out here, all alone.

 _Sorry about that_ , thought Ren.

"Nice shoes."

 _?_

A woman in a black T-shirt (Ren partially caught the words, 'fight the power') and orange shades appraised him. A Nikon DSLR hung from her neck. Ren noticed the little details of scratches near the shutter button. That camera was not for show; she used it a lot.

The woman pushed up her glasses, disturbing the fringes of her helmet bob cut. A curvy smile warmed at Ren, lipstick red and friendly. She didn't seem to be a threat? Ren thought. There was a vague hipster vibe to her, with that T-shirt statement, the fanny pack and those converse sneakers.

"Thanks," said Ren.

"Is this your car?" she asked.

Ren nodded, all too aware of his scruffy appearance next to the posh Jaguar.

"From the looks of things, you don't seem to be an ordinary stalking fan. That ride, your. . ." her chestnut eyes swept up and down Ren, ". . .eccentric style. Are you a professional artist by any chance? Here to see Madarame?"

"Umm. . .no, I'm not. You are. . .?" Ren queried.

"Oh sorry. I should have been more clear. I'm actually looking for people who are acquainted with Madarame's pupils," said the lady.

She handed Ren a business card. Simple type-set which introduced a freelancer journalist: _Ichiko Ohya_ , plus a contact number and email beneath.

"There's this painting 'Sayuri', that was supposedly stolen in the past. I'm investigating a rumour which alleges an ex-pupil stole it, in retaliation for being abused by his sensei, Madarame. Have you heard anything about that?" asked Ohya.

 _Some and some_ , Ren thought wryly.

"I might have heard the vague rumour online. Not more than that, I'm afraid," said Ren.

Ohya genuinely looked disappointed.

"I see. If there's no credible witnesses to find, there's no victim. No victims. . .no story."

". . ."

Ohya sighed.

"Back to square one, I guess. Sorry for taking your time. But hey, if you hear anything strange, any leads for a good scoop, would you mind sparing some crumbs for this sparrow? My pursuit as a journalist is to be a voice for the voiceless," said Ohya.

"I will. . .although someone working for Madarame could be lying to your face. How can you be sure with me?" asked Ren.

Ohya grinned.

"I doubt that. My intuition says you're like me. Rooting for the underdogs, the rebels. Besides-" Ohya glanced at the licence number plate on the Jaguar, "-I'm pretty good at my job. Anyone who drives a rare import registered to a high school kid-" Ren's face went neutral, "-has a slim chance of being associated with Madarame," said Ohya.

". . .Point taken."

"Hope to hear from you. See you around!"

* * *

 _Yongen-jaya_.

Securing parking space for the Jaguar in Yongen-Jaya was sorted quickly enough when Ren downloaded a dedicated app and paid for a six-month package. His car would be secured through remote access, a two-minute walk from Leblanc Café.

After showering off champagne spills, the after-grit of the fisticuffs in Ico Tower, steamy sex topped off with fluffy cuddling - Ren stumbled into the café, just in time to find Sojiro tutting at the receiver of the antiquated yellow telephone.

"I've been trying your number, kid," said Sojiro.

"Battery died," Ren gasped.

Sojiro sensed something different with Ren today. Like there was an aura of lightness about him. More relaxed and loose around the shoulders. From the scoop of Ren's T-shirt, Sojiro made out hints of scratch marks, stripe racing across his chest. Even his damp hair appeared more out of place than usual.

 _I see_ , thought Sojiro.

"Hmph. The delivery truck is one minute away. Best hurry now. . ."

* * *

 _Ginza_.

A handwritten note and a glass of water were by Ann's bedside table. The note was from Ren, telling her to take it easy, especially with walking. At first, Ann was confused by what he meant.

Then the soreness and aches washed over her. Her thighs felt stiff, her back nit-bit bruises and her legs felt like jelly. Ann winced, sitting slowly up. This was all new to her.

Ann took an ella and drank the water. She stared at the empty glass, glum. Why didn't Ren wake her up before leaving? she thought. Ann already missed him. She pouted, drawing a small nip of protest from her swollen lips.

 _Ow_ , thought Ann.

Ann inspected herself all over. If Ann's body was a crime scene of lovemaking, then Ren left a massacre. Her butt felt raw and tender. Ann felt teeth bite imprints at the side of her soft fleshy hips. Her face went red, remembering that moment. Ann pushed her hair strands back. The phantom memories of Ren tugging them echoed. She swallowed.

Fingers felt at her neck. No marks there. Hickeys were not too bad. All of them would be covered up in her Shujin uniform (Ann wasn't going to lie to herself – a part of her liked the idea of making a public statement to girls like Kofuki and Ishikawa). She gingerly prodded at the hickey between her breasts. It had the uncanny shape of Australia on a map.

The shower plates blasted hot water and steam. The glass fogged up. Mood lights auto-switched on. The wet blur of Ann's naked body turned, blue ghosts into green aurora.

Ann closed her eyes. Despite the ache, the bruises, Ann was consumed by another feeling altogether. It was like a switch had been flipped inside of her today. Phantom licks and sensations repeated in her body, like a haunted turntable spinning a record label of her intimacy with Ren. Through the waterfall sounds of the shower, a small gasp bounced off the granite walls. Ann wasn't even touching her clit, yet it felt like. . .

X

After showering and reading Ren's messages, she typed her replies:

_Ann: Car? _

_Ann: I miss you _

_Ann: Get back soon. I'm waiting. _

Ann barely made it to the living room couch. Walking felt like such a mission. Ann winced, taking slow limping steps. Surely, she'd be able to rebound better from these in the future? Ann thought. She made a mental note to ask Ren about it. Ann had a lot of questions for Ren, regarding sex. Just the thought that she could initiate physical intimacy with Ren at her liking, almost made her head spin from all the dizzying possibilities Ann was imagining for the future.

Ann's phone rang, vibrating on the wireless charger set on the coffee table. The video caller ID was her mother, Hatsumi Takamaki. Ann answered.

A dark-haired woman pixelated into the video feed. She was thirty-nine and still every bit Japanese pretty. The sort of beauty that could thaw the coldest of hearts - that knew her own share of wisdom and getting hurt. Behind Hatsumi, a waiter navigated past – weighing a platter of cocktails. Party lights winkled over her mother.

"Hey mum."

"Ohhh, my baby girl! I've missed you so much!"

"I miss you too. What's that noise? Where's dad?"

"Oh, that's the silly DJ blasting his music too loud. He thinks he can be louder than the fashion statements here in Paris. Your father is with the flustered models, fussing over tutus. . ."

Hatsumi went on a tangent, talking about the hectic planning for launching a new brand line. Ann liked it when her mother was animated. It meant that she was busy with work, feeling fulfilled. Her mother's work ethic was Ann's inspiration for seeking the same fulfilment in being a model.

". . .is everything okay, Ann? You look like you want to say something?" asked Hatsumi.

"Do you remember that boy I told you about? In New York."

"Of course. But you never told me his name," queried Hatsumi.

"It's Ren."

"Ren. . .?"

Before Ann could say 'Amamiya', someone intruded from Hatsumi's side, whispering urgently into her ear.

"Sorry, Ann. I have to go now. It looks like the tutus are proving to be a crisis in the backrooms. Urgh. . .as if there weren't enough headaches tonight already. I promise I'll call you again soon, okay? I love you," said Hatsumi.

Ann smiled. She missed her parents so much.

"I love you too, mum."

* * *

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

 _26.06.1996_

 _Marshall called today. He returned to Japan last week. Says he wants to 'catch up'. A part of me always knew I'd hear from this ex flame again. He's always been. . .strangely special to me. . . ._

 _Feelings and moods are like a myriad of colours. Each of them are different shades and hues. I feel Marshall's colour. I feel Keinosuke's. When Marshall called, my tummy jumped. I was so used to a certain someone calling, even though it's not him anymore. It's difficult for his colour to fade. But maybe it's time to move on. Change my own colours._

 _Final. Decided. I won't change my mind. No choice. Keinosuke will be marrying Rie Amamiya for his ambitions. I hear he will adopt her family's name. I can't change his mind. But maybe I can change my future. Ensure my happiness. Marshall is a good man. He's a rising star in the fashion industry. He already understands me in his own unique way._

 _Maybe miracles will come of this. Maybe love._

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/**

* * *

 **Prepare for a fat ass A/N. *** ** _smacks bum cheek_**

 **The micellar water & Q-tips Ren found in the washroom are cosmetics Ann uses to accentuate the contours of her natural lip shape after she blots on lipstick. In this story, Ann likes to use cosmetics in ways which serve to compliment her already natural beauty, rather than explicitly editing it. It's a kind of accidental confidence she's not self-aware of, as some of her peers take a 'more is better' approach. **

**. . .In case this needs to be said (lol), no that's not an endorsement from this author saying that any woman who uses heavy amounts make-up are inferior/insecure. Some initiatives are borne out of creative and wholesome expressions of beauty. Others are more reactionary to external factors. This has been my observation.**

 **As** ** _Cyber-Violet Volition_** **progresses, subtle hints like these will be dropping on Ann's personalised style to self-care and glamour. I feel like such detail subsets are owed to the entire structure which makes up Ann Takamaki's character presentation.**

 **Kawakami's backstory has been changed in this AU. Outside of her teaching hours, she works at Lala-chan's Crossroad Bar instead of the 'special maid' services. When I was contemplating on how to portray Kawakami, I realised that if I went with what the game did, there might come a chapter where I would have to write her getting dicked down by a client or quaternity – since** ** _Cyber-Violet Volition_** **doesn't shy away from carnality.**

 **Not that I'm opposed to writing Sadayo in a raunchy fuckfest. But that epiphany made me re-examine her choices of what a learned adult might do when faced with the threat of litigation that is essentially. . .blunt extortion that carries zero sanction from the court of law. I won't specify what's precisely going on with her backstory here, but CVV will reveal this as more chapters come.**

 **Thirdly, I'd like to confirm with cautious optimism that Royal content will be included in** ** _Cyber-Violet Volition_** **. This was a decision I locked into when I watched the promotional footage for when shujinkō first** **acquaints with Kasumi. The date of their meet was marked May 30** **th** **, about 6 days before Madarame is to confess his crimes (June 5** **th** **).**

 **This story is currently paced in the middle of the Museum of Vanity arc, a snail-pace I intend to fully exploit for Persona 5's refresh. Liberties to embed Kasumi how I see fit, tweaking character lore if needed (once I gauge canon content) is within my means as this story is AU - ergo any dissimilarities which CVV will have during Palace 1 & 2 arcs, are not consequential for the long road. I get this feeling that Kasumi might be the final piece of the puzzle, for the sixth and final arc I have in mind for CVV. Royal will be bringing in new characters, new locations. I personally look forward to the challenge of juggling and synthesizing this expanded roster of characters in ****_Cyber-Violet Volition_** **. There will be no faux-redemptions. No forced shoehorning. No pioneer character will be undercut.**

 **I suppose that piques the question with some of you: Will Kasumi be smutted in this story? That's something I'll be mulling on**

 **Another thing to address. Some of you may be wondering if Ann was a virgin until this chapter. You may have noticed that while Cyber-Violet was elaborating that Ann was 'inexperienced', it never explicitly states that Ren was her first for sex or kissing. This vagueness is very much intentional and is left to the personal interpretation for the reader's solipsistic headcanon. Whichever route other readers decide, I ask that a modicum of respect be upheld in the comment section.**

 **Virginities are a funny thing in low brow fiction. Both from western and eastern media. You get these myths and superstitions about tightness, looseness,** ** _the hymen_** **. . .oh man the hymen. There are people out there who think the hymen is some kind of warranty seal for the vagina, which I think is. . .a rather cold prejudice to uphold. "Virginity voided if broken" blah blah.**

 **When I was sixteen years old, I used to attend martial arts classes at a dojo by the beach. These were classes I had been attending for about five years and I made some friends while I was there. One week, I received a phone call from another girl my age. A friend. She was hysterical when I answered, shrieking Armageddon that she "broke" her vagina. Imagine my face when I replied, "You did what?" She went on to explain that she was at the dojo. During her warm-up stretches (iirc she said it was the leg stretches), she felt this sharp pain spike at her nether. After escaping to the girls' washroom to recuperate, she tried to understand what was happening to her. In a shaky breath on the phone, she said there was blood on her panties. You can imagine, this was a major dilemma because a karateka's** ** _gi_** **is a white uniform and there were more than a dozen children and teenagers outside the washroom, in witness.**

 **Since I lived 5 minutes from the dojo, I discreetly showed up with a change of clothes for my friend, so she could excuse herself in dignity.**

 **So yeah, neither of us understood what the fuck was going on with her vagina at the time. I was the sort of 16-year-old who read manga and contemplated if Sasuke stood a chance of winning against Itachi. Not. . .being an expert on the vagina's complexities. There was some confusion later on when it came for her to have sex with her boyfriend for the first time (who was told truthfully – that she was a virgin). I wish I could say the ordeal she went through that month was stress-free.**

 **Tightness also has askew superstitions about. I've deflowered two in my years'; one was bloodless, the other wasn't. Neither of these Jane Does were the tightest I've been inside. In my personal experience, a lady who had been intimate with six guys before me, was the tightest pussy I've ever fucked. Anecdata tells me that the more a woman is in touch with her sensuality, the greater the control she has down there.**

 **Ann and Ren's relationship…is going to be interesting to develop in CVV. You've seen their chemistry in all those chapters before thirty-one. You've seen their barriers completely lowered, having sex, the way they guess and perceive the other in this chapter. As well as the extrinsic factors which shadow their romance (Keinosuke Amamiya & Hatsumi Takamaki being one of the many). Despite opening up at last, both of them are still somewhat mysterious to the other. There is a sophisticated element to Ann, Ren cannot fully fathom yet. Ann's got a high emotional quotient, yet Ren continues to surprise her. There will be power struggles (like here), fights, love and plenty of real talk down the line. **

***** ** _catches breath_**

 **I guess that's most of it for this author's note. I discovered a song earlier this month, Sadness_Kiss in October - which I really liked and thought its beginning trenched the emotional depths of the Wild Card I'm writing. I'd like to think it's low key Ren's character soundtrack for this story.**


End file.
